


Cold Blood

by lezBeauregard



Series: The Vampire Capital of the World [1]
Category: Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: 2000's supernatural teen drama, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bisexual Clark Kent, Bisexual Lex Luthor, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Good Person Lex Luthor, Human/Vampire Hybrid, I got you buddy, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Other, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, This is multi fic slow burn, Vampire Experiments, Vampires, Werewolves, You've been warned, everyone is bi, hybrid Clark Kent, if you like 2000's teen dramas, vampire Lex Luthor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 43
Words: 91,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27351109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lezBeauregard/pseuds/lezBeauregard
Summary: In 1989, there was a storm in Smallville, Kansas. Two children disappeared. Two fates forever changed.Clark Kent was discovered by his adoptive parents, a sniveling toddler who was left alone on the side of the road. Growing up, he exhibited strange talents and a concerning thirst for blood while Martha and Jonathan reconcile their love and fears.Lex Luthor was a Smallville legend, the disappearing child after the murder of a young mother and her baby. Sixteen years later, he appears again. Grown and forever changed, he heads the Smallville division of Luthorcorp.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Chloe Sullivan, Clark Kent & Pete Ross, Clark Kent/Lana Lang, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, Jonathan "Pa" Kent/Martha Kent, Lana Lang & Chloe Sullivan, Lana Lang & Lex Luthor, Whitney Fordman/Lana Lang
Series: The Vampire Capital of the World [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187534
Comments: 18
Kudos: 43
Collections: Start Reading





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> If you watched early 2000's teen dramas and loved the ones that died too soon (that were usually some weird supernatural shit) you might like this. I cannot emphasis this enough, I'm going for a vibe.

The wind howled, whipping the crops around Lex as he ran. Wet earth padded under his feet, his wheezing breath sharp in his ear. The burning in his lungs was only rivaled by the need to get away, his mothers screams still seared in his mind. At least he didn’t have to hear Julian’s last cries, the monster was so fast. But he needed to go, he needed to get away. His mother had bought Lex a few necessary moments to run into the neighbors corn field.

Everyone had been talking for weeks about the big storm coming through, the news even told people to get ready to stay home for a couple days. They hadn’t been wrong. The winds whipping the corn stalks about whipped Lex with their sharp edges leaves, the thump of unpicked cobs making him disoriented. After reaching the heart of the corn field, he fell onto skinned knees in the soft earth and plunged his hand into the deep pocket of his jeans. His inhaler was gone. Panic shot through Lex as his chest tightened, the wheezing almost as loud as the whipping winds.

A loud crack off to the left caught Lex’s attention before the field was alight. Blinding and earth shattering, the lightening touched down and sent Lex screaming back. On the ground, he curled up with his knees to his chest and hands clasped over his ears. The rain soaked his red hair and cemented it against his head. Under the rumbling of the thunder and strong winds, there was a rustling of corn not far off.

The sound was lost on the child, now crying as he wished and wished and wished.

_Wake up, wake up, wake up._

It wasn’t long until the rustling headed straight towards the whimpering. Just shy of Lex, the corn grew still for a half moment, the wind dying down as rain pelted the area. Lex kept repeating his mantra over and over, eyes tightly held as tears mixed with rain on his face.

A claw reached out, snatching the back of the boys t-shirt, and pulled him into the dark.

The screams were muffled under the crack of thunder echoing through the field.

***

The echoes of thunder shook the young couple as they hurried down the dark road. Getting home before the storm started had been a priority, but seeing old friends after the homecoming game had been so nice. Jonathan had to be there for his old football buddy’s first big game as coach and Martha would do anything to see him smile like that again. It was that unbreakable joy in Jonathan she’d fallen in love with, and seeing it shine through was like a blessing.

But it was because of that extra time that they were stuck in this storm. Had it been an hour earlier, they’d have made it home just in time to get everything locked down. Jonathan was so focused on the road, starring through the rain as the headlights illuminated black road and black surrounding. Whatever last bit of sun was peaking through had been suppressed by the heavy cloud cover.

A loud crack caught the couple off guard as light filled the area and the truck swerved. It hid something in the road and suddenly everything was spinning. The sudden darkness after the lightening dissipated made it all the more disorienting, ozone lingering in the air. It felt like everything slowed down and kept tumbling before all of a sudden, it was over.

The truck was on it’s roof and the couple was left hanging. For a long second, the world held still, the pattering of rain a distant sound as Jonathan blinked away the fog. The blood was pumping as a pale figure caught his attention. It was a toddler, no older than two, coming by on chubby legs and leaning down to look in the window. The poor thing had a blank expression on it’s face, diaper sagging in it’s onesie from the rain. For a second, Jonathan wondered if he was hallucinating before looking over to see the expression on Martha’s face. Perplexment, disbelief, excitement.

In a swift motion, Jonathan muscled the car door open and dropped from the seat, crawling his way out of the car as Martha maneuvered her way out. The two steadied themselves against the upturned truck, watching the child for a moment before Martha swooped down to pull him close. The babies clammy skin shocked her, naturally bringing the child closer and wrapping her jacket around him.

“Where did he come from?” Jonathan called over the storm.

“I don’t know, I didn’t see him on the road.” Martha called back, looking around the area before them.

The large bough of a tree had fallen into the road, snapped and broken and mangled by lightening. It had hit so close, that baby could have been fried. Yet here he was, wrapped tight in Martha’s arms. She looked back at Jonathan, a silent question passing between them.

_What do we do?_


	2. Chapter 2

The morning sun filtered through the bedroom window as Clark hurried about, getting his backpack ready. Had he paid attention to the clock after waking up, he knew the rush wouldn’t be as bad, but he couldn’t help it. From the first rays of sun, Clark was up and sitting at his window sill like every morning, transfixed on the bright sunrise over the fields he could see from his bedroom. That had always been his favorite part of the room growing up, how perfectly placed that window seemed to be for him.

But now it was biting him in the ass as Clark prepared for the first day of school, running downstairs and grabbing his boots from the mud rack by the back door. Martha pushed a sack lunch across the table to him, taking a pan of muffins out of the oven before replacing it with another.

“Don’t forget your water, sweetie.” Martha said, kissing Clark’s cheek as he sat back at the breakfast table.

“I know, ma, don’t worry.”

Before another word could be said, Clark had his boots on, water bottle and sack lunch tossed into his bag, and was out the door in a flash. The school bus was just driving by as Clark stood on the Kent porch and cursing under his breath. From there he could see Chloe and Pete waving from their seats up front. They were real funny, but not for much longer.

Taking a look around, Clark zoomed across the field as the bus drove on, leaping and touching down on top of the bus, laying flat in hopes of not standing out. Perhaps the bright, blue jacket and red t-shirt had been a mistake for the day.

Upon reaching the school, Clark made sure to jump off the back a block away and walk the rest of the way to school. When he reached the front entrance, he could see Chloe and Pete standing together and laughing until all eyes were on Clark.

“No way, how did you do that?” Chloe asked, turning to walk with Clark up to school.

“Do what?” He asked, shit eating grin across his face.

“You always show up just in time, I don’t get it.” She sighed.

With a shrug, Clark wrapped his large arms around Pete and Chloe, squeezing them close.

“Come on, it’s our senior year, I’m not gonna let us miss a moment.” Clark said, looking between his friends.

“Why are you so excited? It’s just another year of school and after this we have to pay taxes.” Pete said, giving Clark a friendly jab with his elbow.

“But it’s our senior year, that’s a lot different.” The hope was almost infectious as he went on. “Come on, we’re eighteen and we may have school but we also have a year of doing whatever we want before we have to worry about _taxes_ or anything like that.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re the human embodiment of a golden retriever?” Chloe asked, ruffling Clark’s dark hair.

As they approached the school, Clark got suddenly quiet. His eyes were trained ahead, a flush coming to his face. At the front of the school was sat Lana Lang, book clutched between her slender hands. Long, dark hair was tucked behind her ear, all her attention on the book as Clark swallowed thickly.

“Hey, I’ll see you guys in class.” He said, stepping ahead quickly.

Chloe stopped in her tracks, watching with a mischievous grin.

“How much you wanna bet he’s finally says more than ‘hi, Lana’ for once?” Pete asked.

“Bet, he won’t even get passed ‘hi’.” Chloe said.

Just ahead, Clark approached Lana and took a deep breath. As he made it within feet of her, a burst of iron hit his nose and Clark was lost. Lana had always had the most fascinating smell, like iron and cinnamon and so warm, and it was overwhelming now. A pit seemed to open in Clark’s stomach as he tried to get a word out, suddenly lost in a stutter.

“Hey, Clark.” Lana said, finally looking up from her book. “How are you?”

“H-hi-hi…”

“Are you okay?” She asked, closing her book and standing. “You look a bit pale.”

“I’m, uh, I-“

As Clark stuttered out his reply, clearing his throat and trying to string anything together, a large figure lumbered close and grabbed Lana from behind. She shrieked in delight as Whitney picked her up and spun, wafting that wonderful smell around Clark as he felt more thirsty than he had in his life.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” Whitney cooed, kissing Lana on the cheek. “Oh, hey, Clark.”

“Uh, h-hi,” Clark muttered.

“Sorry, did you need something before class?” Lana asked, grabbing her bag as the first bell rang.

Clark quickly shook his head, sharing a half smile as Lana walked away and he dropped onto the now vacant seat.

“Stuck out again, poor puppy.” Chloe said, her bottom lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. “It is a fact that Clark Kent can’t get within five feet of Lana Lang and stay standing.”

“How do I keep losing to you?” Pete sighed, handing over his last five dollar bill.

“Because you think Clark is gonna change overnight. If Clark can hold an actual conversation with her, I’ll change my stance.”

After taking several deep breaths, Clark pulled the large water bottle from his backpack. The sweet coconut water quenched some of that overwhelming thirst, calming the buzz starting in the back of his head. Pete reached out after Clark zipped the bag closed and threw it over his shoulder. He took his friend’s hand and stood with some help, still finding his tongue running over the tenderness starting in his gums. It had started up the other week as Clark’s thirst had started growing faster than he could get anything down. Worry burrowed deep in Clark, but part of him couldn’t bring himself to tell his parents. This had been one of their greatest worries as he grew up.

“Are we pro senior dances?” Chloe asked, sighing deeply. “I couldn’t decide over the summer if I could change my stance for the senior experience and generational nostalgia.”

“Who are we supposed to go with?” Pete asked. “Senior experience, sure, but you forget we’ve been losers for the last three years. Our senior experience is nothing compared to the Whitney Foreman’s of the world.”

“We could all go together, as friends.” Clark suggested, feeling his spirits raising a bit again. “Dates have obligations, if we go as a group we can just have fun.”

“Is this on the record? I want to know for when the opportunity to ask Lana to the prom comes up.” Chloe said.

“I can’t believe you, I wouldn’t do that.”

A look passed between Pete and Chloe as they stopped outside of a classroom. Clark couldn’t help but roll his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I can’t believe you two.” He muttered.

“Pete, remember that time Clark ditched us for movies because Lana asked for help on her biology study packet? Even though it was his idea and he got the tickets?” Chloe asked, keeping a near Stepford perfection to her tone and smile.

“Oh, Chloe, remember that time Clark said he was too busy with chores to help with our English presentation but he dropped everything to help Lana when her car broke down and she didn’t want to wait for her aunt?” Pete asked in return, quickly looking to Clark with a shit eating grin.

“Those were two times, I was just being neighborly,” Clark said.

“Two out of a million as long as I can remember living in Smallville.” Chloe snapped, nudging Pete. “And I’m sure Mr. Lifetimer here has more stories of the wooing of Lana Lang.”

“The very long, very ineffective wooing.” Pete raised his brows at Clark.

“You two are just being dramatic!”

Clark pushed through his friends as they laughed, slumping in the first seat he could find. Chloe and Pete took up nearby seats and continued their banter. The first day of school felt more like a blur than anything, a repeat of the same speech over the same syllabus for every class. It was the same expectations and rules as usual, with he exception of seniors now being allowed to leave school grounds at lunch. The new found freedom was a great sense of relief as the three made their way to the edge of school property after the midday bell.

The energy was almost giddy as the three looked around each other and stepped into the sidewalk. Just near enough to the school was a general store a lot of kids parked in to enjoy their lunch, the friends finding themselves swept up in the traffic heading that direction. Some kids ran inside to buy something for themselves while others seemed to have packed lunches or even a hot lunch from the school cafeteria they’d smuggled out. Pete ran ahead to talk to someone he knew as Clark and Chloe found an empty area to sit without threat of being parked on but still able to watch the strange class routine everyone was acclimating to.

“Don’t you find it interesting that the mere story of seniors always spending lunch here was enough to convince every class to continue coming here every year?” Chloe asked, leaning over. “It’s not like anyone showed us before they graduated how to continue this ritual, we all just do it after hearing about it for so many years.”

“Who are we to break tradition?” Clark said, smiling over.

“Tradition is just generational peer pressure.”

Clark snorted, pulling his half empty water bottle out of his bag. He sipped on it as he contemplated the parking lot. Not far off, he could hear the trill of Lana’s giggles. Sat in the flatbed of Whitney’s truck, she was surrounded by the other popular kids of her clique. Lunch was forgotten as Clark couldn’t pull his eyes from her. The memory of her smell lingered in the back of his mind, the guilty pleasure of it sending a shiver down his spine. That was dangerous, going over there to talk to Lana was a mistake. Since they were kids, Lana had always smelled better than his other peers, a mouthwatering smell that scared Clark. It had only gotten worse as they grew up, somethings overwhelming him to the point of blubbering and stumbling over himself. But now it was something else. The thirst still lingered no matter how fast Clark ate his lackluster sandwich and coconut water lunch.

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” Chloe asked, her eyes following his towards Lana. “You realize at this point the schoolyard crush is starting to look like a court case waiting to happen.”

Clark shook his head, looking down at the empty paper bag in his hands. All the thoughts crossing through his mind weren’t easy to explain, they were downright scary to someone not in the know. How was Clark supposed to explain the terrible truth of his feelings towards Lana? Yes, he had always harbored a crush on Lana, she was one of the most beautiful people in Smallville. But had those feelings started before or after he found her blood smelled better than most?

The class began moving it’s way back to the school as the next bell loomed around the corner, sheparding everyone home. The enthusiasm Clark had held in the morning was worn thin by the end of the day as he climbed into the bus and crammed his large frame into a bench. Chloe and Pete took their seat in the bench behind Clark and kept their conversation open as he brooded. The sun streamed golden light around the dusty, country road as they pulled up to the last stop. The trio and last of the farm kids on board disembarked and began the long trek down the road.

Pete and Chloe kept bickering around Clark, not yet drawing attention to his return to the moody. Previous years had proved Clark’s mood swings to be inevitable on the first day. But something about this year seemed to hang over the trio like a black cloud until reaching the end of Clark’s driveway. They said goodbye, leaving him standing there, face drawn and looking wistfully over the green pasture and cows.

Eventually, his feet began walking away from the driveway. Along the side of the road, he kicked up dirt and watched the clouds as light slowly faded. From high in the sky and golden to the low and purple sunset that drew Clark to the Loeb river bridge to watching.

He hadn’t meant to walk so long and miss his chores, but Clark didn’t want to go home yet. Everything had been so underwhelming and average, his want for a new beginning felt like it fell on deaf ears. If anything, it felt like he was going backwards from everyone else. After the years his thirst got easier to control, it was getting worse once again, and he inevitably had to tell Ma and Pa. That would worry them, and they may start talking about pulling Clark out of classes again. The last thing he wanted to do was finish his senior year from home. That same thirst tickled the back of his throat as Clark dropped his backpack and kneeled down to pull out his water bottle. There was still a good quarter left to satiate him, drinking it down greedily before a loud pop caught his attention.

Looking over, there was barely a moment to react from seeing the headlights and them pushing Clark through the metal barrier over the edge of the bridge and into he freezing water below.


	3. Chapter 3

The cold water sent Clark into a momentary shock, frozen as the nose of the glossy black car pushed him down. As soon as the situation clicked in Clark’s mind, he was swimming around the car to check on the passengers. The front door ripped off easily, and Clark expected to see the driver hovering and unconscious in their seat. Instead, Clark came face to face with a young man, maybe twenty-five, staring at Clark with wide eyes. For a moment, they stared at each other, assessing each other before Clark grabbing his arm and started dragging him up to the bank.

As they broke the surface, he took a gasping breath and swam to the muddy land. Clark gasped and sputtered for a moment, coughing up a small amount of water before looking at the man beside him. The driver was bald, doubled over with his gloved hands on his knees and spitting out water. A heavy, black coat hung limply on his shoulders, flapping heavily as he turned and looked over Clark.

“I hit you.”

Panic flared, the grey eyes trained on him like a predator on it’s prey.

“I swear to God, I hit you.” He said again, reaching out a hand to Clark.

Clark took it, letting himself be pulled up. Pale, blue moonlight shone over the two as Clark’s wet bangs hung in tendrils over his eyes. He took several deep breaths and shook his head.

“I jumped in after you, you must have hit your head.”

“I didn’t hit my head.” The driver said, eyes burrowing into Clark like they were looking for something. “How did you get my door off like that?”

His next few words would be important as Clark still gripped the bald man’s hand, strong and unyielding. Suddenly, he noticed something about the man, his brow drawing together.

“Why don’t you have a scratch on you?”

The man’s face fell and he withdrew his hand from Clark, walking up the bank and running a gloved hand over his head. He looked up and down the road and back into the river before back at Clark. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife as Clark walked up to the road and looked around. It was dark and empty, no chance of someone driving. Was this man looking out for witnesses?

There was something bothering him, something in the back of Clark’s head that he hadn’t noticed. He sniffed, smelling something unnerving. While people’s scents weren’t anything alike, there was always the same underlying iron tang of blood. Chloe smelled like citrus and blood under her body sprays and fancy soaps, like Lana always smelled like spice. But this man didn’t smell like that. There was a soft musk like sandalwood without the tempting smell of iron.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking into Clark’s eyes for a moment.

“I’m fine…”

“You sure? You look a little off kilter there.”

“You should be on your way to the hospital after that, how are you still standing?” Clark blurted.

The man froze for a moment and leaned in close. It was unnerving how bright his grey eyes were in the moonlight, catching Clark’s attention as he spoke.

“I’m fine, nothing happened.”

“If you say so, but I’m starting to think you hit your head.” Clark said, stepping back.

He watched the man’s face contort in confusion, blinking slowly before he cleared his throat.

“Um, okay… Goodnight, then.”

And with that, the man turned and began walking in the opposite direction of Clark, looking back every once in a while. Only after a minute of watching him go did Clark turn and begin on his own way, peeking back until he couldn’t see the man. As soon as he looked alone, he picked up the pace and kicked up a trail of dust before he was left at the front door of the Kent home.

Slipping inside, Clark sat at the breakfast table and laid things out from his back pack. Letting his notebooks air dry overnight wasn’t guaranteed, but at least it was only the beginning of the year. With jacket and shoes spread out to dry, Clark slipped through the living room, seeing Jonathan and Martha asleep in front of the television. He felt a pang of guilt for making them wait up as late as they did, laying a blanket over them before hurrying to the stairs.

He made it up in a blink of the eye, holding tight to the banister before he could slip in his wet socks. His hair had dried back on the run home, but everything else was left uncomfortably damp. As soon as he slipped into his room, Clark stripped down and threw everything into his hamper, making a mental note to take it down in the morning as he grabbed a pair of plaid pajama pants from the floor. In cleaner clothes, he dropped into the window sill and looked out at the sky.

The shock of everything hadn’t totally abated as he tried to think about sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking of the wide eyed surprise when he’d ripped the car door loose, the musky smell unmarred by tempting blood, the strange way the bald man had acted after being pulled out of the river. Almost like he’d been inconvenienced by Clark’s rescue. There was one constant thought running through his head as Clark watched the bright, full moon continue it’s way over the sky.

***

The mansion was alight as moonlight filtered through the stained glass windows, red and blue splotches scattered around the walls as the bald man made his way through the quiet halls. At the front door, he shed the wet jacket and gloves, making his way straight to the library. Growing up, he’d grown quite fond of the room and decided upon returning to the family home to make it his own.

Stepping inside, a fire already crackled in the fireplace, making the shadows dance. The warm sight was calming, halfhearted smile finding it’s way onto the man’s face. He ignored the young woman sat in front of his personal desk, so well put together she could have been a statue in honor of the well oiled corporate machine. Before sitting to the latest news from his father, the man strolled behind the bar he’d asked for and began pouring himself a drink.

“I need someone found.” He said, finally walking to his desk and taking a sip from his night cap. “No name, giant of a man with dark hair. Probably a high schooler.”

The young woman scribbled out her notes, looking back after a moment.

“When you find him, I want a gift sent.” He sighed, setting aside his nearly full glass. “A car, something pricey. Show me everything before it’s sent, I’d like to attach a thank you note.”

“Yes, Mr. Luthor.” The young woman said, crossing her legs as she leaned closer. “Do you want this one on the books?”

There was a long pause as he contemplated the suggestion and slowly turned to meet her eyes.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“I-I was… only asking…”

“What did my father say exactly when he hired you? Did he ask you to even be subtle?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Luthor, I-I wasn-“

The young man shushed her, standing and walking around his desk. A firm hand rested on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

“I hope you let my father know this kind of interference isn’t appreciated. This is a warning,” he said. “Next time, he’s getting a body back.”


	4. Chapter 4

For the first time in a long time, Clark didn’t rise with the sun. As he came to from the little sleep he’d managed, he pulled the covers up and over his head, sighing deeply as he mentally went through how to apologize for worrying his parents. As he slowly got dressed and crept down the stairs, he rehearsed the apology and calculated what his punishment would be. It wasn’t until he saw his parents standing silent at the breakfast table with his dried out school books stacked with an envelope and keys set on top.

“Uh, morning,” he said.

“Good morning, sweetie.” Martha said, giving a tight smile before sipping her coffee.

“Clark, did something happen yesterday?” His father asked, still eyeing the envelope and keys.

“Yeah, about that…” Clark cleared his throat as he grabbed a slice of toast from the toast rack as he sat. “There was kind of an accident over at Loeb bridge.”

“Oh my gosh, Clark, is everyone okay?” Martha reached out, putting her hand over Clark’s. “What happened?”

For a long moment, Clark just chewed on the corner of his toast before he really looked at the envelope in front of his. Setting down the toast, he picked it up and slid open the flap and pulled out a little white card. A neat script was scrawled across the inside with a flourished signature at the bottom, Clark’s eyes scanning over it all several times.

_Clark,_

_Thank you for the assistance last night, I hope this can repay for your_

_kindness_

_L. Luthor_

A lump formed in Clark’s throat as he read the signature again before looking up to his parents. The keys dangled in his fingers, Clark stood and looked out the backdoor window. Glistening in the morning sun, a glossy red sports car sat in the driveway. His jaw dropped open, blinking as if his vision would clear and it was just their regular red truck with a new paint job. That, in and of itself, would have been impressive. But it stayed there, sleek and straight from Clark’s dreams. What high schooler wouldn’t love to pull up to school in something like that?

“Clark, we need to discuss that.” Jonathan said, each word deliberate and focused.

“I can explain everything, just…” Taking a deep breath, Clark tried to slow his thoughts to explain everything.

Leaving out his own concerning experience with Lana, Clark told his parents everything about the day before. About his melancholy, his wandering, and the crash. He got quiet for a moment, slowly breathing before admitting he’d been hit. The way Martha and Jonathan tensed made Clark’s heart ache, but he continued on with he assurance he was okay. They could see that, then and there, that Clark was okay despite being hit with a car. They could see how wrong it was, an ugly voice said in the back of Clark’s mind.

“This note… I think he thinks I think something.” He finished, laying the open card on the table.

“You think?” Jonathan asked, brow raised.

Martha gave him a stern look before turning back to her son, laying a warm hand on his arm.

“Clark, what you said about him… Do you think he’s like you?”

Clark chewed on his lip for a moment, mind raising from thought to thought over the night before. The way this Luthor guy came out unscathed, the way he looked at Clark like he knew something, the way he had smelled; it all had Clark wondering if he wasn’t so alone anymore.

“What would you even call like me?” He asked, eyes averted to the breakfast table.

Everyone got quiet again, a new tension in the air. Only once before did Clark confront his parents about Clark’s unique existence, in middle school when his parents had to remind him why they had such strict rules for him growing up. Not since they told him the story of when he was two. The time Clark had gotten loose in the field after the adoption and was found suckling blood from a paralyzed cow.

“Sweetie…”

“No, Clark’s right, we shouldn’t dance around it anymore.” Jonathan said, his own no nonsense sensibilities coming to at last. “If he is anything like you, he’s a vampire, plain as that. And we don’t know anything about vampires that we don’t know from raising you, so for all we know this is going to be held over your head. That’s why you can’t keep it.”

“Dad!”

“I love you, Clark, you’re my son. And because you’re my son, I don’t want to see someone using a big expensive gift like this as an in to potentially expose you.” Jonathan’s voice softened as he leaned closer, sighing deeply. “We’ve done everything in our power to keep you safe since we realized what raising you meant, and we don’t know what vampires at large are like. For all we know, he could try to take you away from us.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Clark asked, his tone almost pleading. “What if suddenly I’m not so alone in this? What if there’s finally someone who really understand what this is like and can help me?”

“You don’t need help, you’ve always managed so well.”

“Don’t you think I want to do more than manage?!” Clark snapped, tossing down the keys.

Standing suddenly from the kitchen table, Clark grabbed his stack of dried books and backpack and pushed through the backdoor. It hung open behind him as Clark shoved the books away and stormed on towards the bus stop. Clark didn’t even turn back as he remembered his water bottle and lunch was still left on the kitchen counter.

***

It was barely lunch as Clark sat in agony, watching the hands of the clock ticking by. The hunger growing deep in Clark’s belly was something beyond the things he had felt over the summer. This was a thirst that made him ache, his tongue running it’s way over his front teeth as his gums pulsed. Each time he brushed by a classmate in the hall and caught a smell of them, the thirst made his gut twist up on itself. No matter how desperately he tried to calm himself, every breath he took was laced with the perpetual smell of blood.

“Hey, Clark!” A cheerful voice cried from behind.

Clark was spun around and suddenly he was affronted with a familiar but more overpowering smell. Fresh oranges and heavy iron.

“Wow, you don’t look so good.” Chloe stepped back, looking her friend up and down. “Hey, maybe you should go see the nurse, you look like you’re going to hurl.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he insisted. “What’s up?”

It took everything within Clark to look normal, trying to project his usually happy go lucky self. For all he knew, it just made him look constipated as he tried to catch what Chloe was saying.

“Anyways, would you read it over and be my witness? I can do yours.” She asked.

“Do my what?” He asked, blinking.

“Hey, be real, what’s wrong?” Chloe leaned forward and reached for his forehead.

Clark flinched, drawing away quickly. A look of understanding suddenly passed over Chloe’s face as she gapped, looking around before motioning down the hall.

“Wait, is it your…?” She made a general motion around Clark, her face drawn up in worry. “I still have some emergency coconut water in the Torch office.”

Clark nodded quickly, not fighting as Chloe grabbed his wrist and pulled him along. As long as he didn’t have to focus on keeping himself moving, Clark was happy to me dragged wherever Chloe wanted to take him. They eventually ended up right where she promised, Clark dropped at a desk as Chloe hurried to the mini fridge she’d installed freshman year. Of all the excuses for Clark’s dietary needs, a chronic electrolyte deficiency always made Clark feel silly, especially when he saw his friends get so worried over him.

Chloe pushed an opened bottle of coconut water into Clark’s hands and he didn’t waste time getting it down. To say it truly relieved Clark’s thirst was a lie, it was just the best thing they could do without stepping into territory not easily discussed. Martha Kent would sooner die than admit the reason Clark was on a diet so high in coconut water was from something she read about when courting a nursing career about it being used in emergency transfusions. The approximation to satisfaction was minimal, but the edge was just enough as Clark was handed a second bottle that he could look at one of his best friends without wondering if she tasted like she smelled.

“How’s it going?” She asked, pulling a chair across from him.

“Better.” He whispered.

“Maybe you should go to the nurse, I think you need to go home.” Chloe insisted, leaning forward in her seat. “We can talk about this later. Hell, I can get Pete to do it.”

“No, talk to me, do what?” Clark said, feeling a need for some kind of normal interaction after the morning he’d had.

“Wow, you were really out of it, weren’t you?” She asked, cringing. “I was asking earlier if you would sign the witness line on my senior project proposal.”

“Shit, when did we get our proposals?” Clark sat up a little straighter, trying to think back on the day.

“In first period, don’t you have yours?”

In a moment of panic, Clark searched through his backpack. Near the bottom, already lost in the mess, was a crumpled proposal packet. He sighed as he smoothed it out before looking at Chloe’s on the desk. Already it had been filled in with her neat print, the exact details and parameters of her project articulated precisely.

“You already finished your proposal?” He asked, a goofy grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Of course, I’ve always known what my project would be.”

With a sigh, Clark leaned back in his seat and read over the proposal. Quickly, his brow knit together and he sat a little straighter, mind spinning to process everything. It wasn’t until he flipped through the extra attached papers that Clark sat back and took a deep breath.

“Are you really proposing you solve the Alexander Down kidnapping?” He asked.

“Not solve, I’d never expect I could solve a sixteen year old cold case. Just… report on it. Maybe get some new eyes on it, new information.” Chloe said, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap before she took a deep breath. “Potentially follow some never before seen leads.”

“If you have information about this, you need to go to the sheriff, Chloe.”

“I know, but I don’t. I mean, I kind of do. I think I do.” The rambling spilled out before Chloe cleared her throat. “Over the summer, I did a little digging. Remember, I did a report on it back in middle school? Well, I thought over break that maybe there had been some new information. I didn’t find anything on the public record, but after doing some digging I did find a name I hadn’t seen in relation to the case before.”

“Where did you find this name?” Clark asked, looking between the proposal and Chloe.

“That’s not important, it’s a good source, though.”

“Is it one you can cite to avoid a libel suit?”

“Clark, this is a school project, not an op-ed!” Chloe huffed, snatching her proposal back. “I’ll get Pete to sign it, go home and rest up.”

“No, hey, I just want to know you’re not going into this half cocked.” Clark said, reaching for the papers. “Who even is it you’re looking into for it?”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Chloe watched Clark for a moment before looking to the open door. She leaned closer, catching Clark off guard.

“The Luthor’s.”

That was a name Clark hadn’t expected. He gapped at Chloe for a moment before finally shaking his head.

“Wait-“

“I know.”

“Didn’t one of them-“

“He arrived out of nowhere last night.”

“Last night?”

“Yeah, no one saw it coming.”

Clark’s heart began to race as he listened to Chloe, taking a deep breath. It was just a coincidence, that’s all it was.

“Why do you think they’ve involved in this?” He asked.

“Okay, this is a little weird.” Chloe said, that little smile that betrayed how excited that fact made her. “I don’t know how they were involved in the Down kidnapping because the family name came up in a heavily redacted document in public records. But a year after all this, Lionel Luthor adopted his son Lex.”

She motioned to her computer monitor and pulled up the scan of a news story. In the photo was the Luthor patriarch, looking pristine and polished in his pressed suit and blown out hair, a ten year old boy stood beside him. The child was striking in appearance, his face set in such a way that looked so like Lionel and unhelped by the sheer lack of hair on his head.

“He was adopted thirteen months after Alexander Down went missing and his mother and baby brother murdered. Unfortunately, in the carnage of her murder, many family photos were destroyed and there’s no photographic evidence of Alexander besides a couple baby photos and a school photo from the first grade.”

“Has no one compared them before?” Clark asked, eyes still focused on the kid in the photo.

“Clark, the murders were a big deal but they didn’t reach far outside of the greater Metropolis area. By the time Lex was adopted, everyone in Smallville didn’t want to think about the tragedy and no one in Gotham where they were living at the time even knew to compare him to anything. Who would even fake an adoption like that? It’s the perfect cover.”

“Yeah, who’d do that.” Clark deadpanned.

Chloe snorted, giving Clark a playful kick.

“Hey, got a secret identity you need to tell me about?”

The rigidity in Clark’s body at the comment wasn’t easy to miss, Chloe’s joking demeaner falling quickly.

“It was just a joke, I didn’t mean it.” She leaned closer. “Hey, Clark, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

With a shrug, Clark leaned back and grabbed a pen. His signature was scrawled across the bottom of the page.

“It’s just a school project, not your big break in journalism. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t, big guy.” Chloe beamed, helping Clark out of his seat. “Now, you go rest. I’ll let the office know you had a medical moment.”

With a final goodbye, Clark kept his stride sure and focused forward. He would make him a stop to grab the car, but there was somewhere else he needed to be.


	5. Chapter 5

The weight of worry Clark felt lift when he saw the truck missing from the driveway as he made it home made him feel like he could fly for a moment. Before he could be spotted by his parents returning, Clark did a once over in the house, dropping his school things in his room and sucking down another bottle of coconut water. If his mind hadn’t been so focused on the goal of the day, he may have sat down to actually eat. Before the thought could even cross his mind, Clark was in the car and starting the engine.

The surge of excitement as the engine roared to life made him pause. His hands gripped over the steering wheel, looking around the leather interior with an overwhelming urge to take it out for a joy ride first. The thought was shook loose at the idea of running into his parents before getting it back, having to explain his logic of just having a quick spin before confronting the Luthor kid alone.

There was only one place in town fit for someone as big as a Luthor was, especially the Luthor heir. It was practically a rite of passage for Smallville kids to try sneaking passed the security gate when the large estate at city limits wasn’t in use. Until now, that was most of the time. It was a sprawling castle more than anything, surrounded in well kept gardens in the warm months.

Pulling up to the property, Clark looked over the security box set up beside the locked gate, rolling down the car window and reaching out to press the big, black button.

“Uh, hello?”

There was a long moment of pause before the box buzzed and a somewhat garbled voice came through.

“Mr. Luthor isn’t available for visitors at the moment, he doesn’t have any meetings on the books for today.”

“I’m not a visitor, or… I mean, I met Mr. Luthor the other night. He sent me something, I was hoping to talk to him about it. My name is Clark Kent?”

After dropping his own name, something he wasn’t sure how this Luthor kid found, Clark’s stomach tensed. There was a very long pause, the box remaining totally silent. The minute stretched out until Clark wondered if they’d simply left him, his comments left unheard. Lex Luthor was unavailable, sure as that. Why would they listen on to some country kid here to bother a busy man.

And then the gates buzzed and slowly opened in front of him. As soon as they were open wide enough, Clark drove through and parked just in front of the great stonework front, eyes drawn all around at the late summer garden being tended to by a small team. Approaching the front door, a woman in a simple black dress and apron stood at the door with a perfect poker face in place.

“Clark Kent?” She asked.

“Uh, yeah, I… if Mr. Luthor isn’t available now, I can come back. I just, um…”

To describe Clark as a fish out of water in that moment was an understatement. It was as if Clark was a fish that was so shocked by air, he forgot how to breath in water.

“Is there something wrong with the car?” The maid asked, stepping just out of the door frame.

“No, I just… I can’t accept this, I really appreciate it, but it’s…”

The woman simply held out her hand for the keys as Clark stood there, gapping. He tentatively set the keys in her hand and nodded quickly, stepping back as he slid his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll call a driver to take you home.” She said, a polite smile now gracing her face.

“Oh, no, no, it’s okay. I can walk, I should walk. It’s nice out, you know?”

Clearing his throat, Clark gave an awkward wave and turned before he could see the maid return it, hurrying his way up the long driveway and into the more shaded road. Everything in him screamed to just run, just go, as fast as he possibly could, but that was impossible still so close to the mansion. Whether this Luthor guy was like him or not, Clark wasn’t going to barge in like a speeding bullet and show all his cards. The slow walk away from the property would give Clark time to think.

The mere idea that the Luthor heir was like Clark both fascinated and terrified Clark. Since he first learned what his thirst and abilities really meant about Clark, what the truth of his adoption meant, he’d always wondered if there were others out there. Other vampires. Was it vampirism in the mystical or medical sense? Was that why his parents had kept his thirst as controlled as possible without blood? Considering they barely called it what it was, he knew they’d never help him get those answers.

But then there was a more logical voice in the back of Clark’s head. What if this was over thinking? What was the true likelihood this man was a vampire? What if he’d just been one damn lucky man and not hit his head in the accident? The questions circled through Clark’s mind before he let that confusion push him faster, zooming through the corn fields and back roads home.

***

The next day went by in such slow pace, Clark wondered if for once he’d been slowed down to everyone else’s speed. The late summer weather had taken a turn for the dreary as grey cloud hung low in the sky. Everything was cast in a pale blue cast, the strange look over Smallville drawing Clark’s attention away from whatever his teachers were talking about and out the window. Even through lunch, as Clark continued his mental slough through how to talk to his parents about the choice he made and what to say if he ever heard back from Lex Luthor. The man had consumed Clark’s mind, that strange look of grey eyes so singularly focused on them he felt compelled to say anything to keep them on him.

That thought jolted Clark out of his fog as Chloe and Pete started throwing things in the nearby trash bin, cars pulling out of the parking lot before the next period bell. Clark blinked for a minute before crumpling his lunch bag and tossing it into the trash.

“What’s been up with you?” Chloe asked, linking arms with Clark as they began the walk back.

“Nothing, just trying to decide on my senior project.” He lied, smiling at Chloe.

“Seriously? Clark, that’s so important! How do you have no idea of what you’re doing yet?”

“Chloe, chill out,” Pete said. “Not everyone is armed first day with a pre-written proposal. I don’t know what I’m doing either, because I spent my summer having fun.”

“Did you even do any prep for college applications this year?” Chloe asked, brow raised. “Do you have a summer job lined up yet?”

“Okay, that’s definitely going too far.” Clark laughed, bumping Chloe with his elbow.

“You two are seriously just going to do the community college, aren’t you?” She said, bumping Clark back.

“You know, my mom says that’s actually a better plan,” Pete said. “Less money to get all my basic classes done and transfer to university to get a real degree.”

“Okay, but do you even know what you’re going to be going into for that degree?”

“Definitely not the third degree, like you’re giving us now.” Pete laughed, high fiving Clark.

Chloe rolled her eyes as usual, finally letting go the line of questioning. She turned quiet as Pete continued on the thought experiment of college and ideas on scoring more dates around the issues of studying. The lighthearted banter seemed to lift Clark’s spirits more than Chloe’s, her own thoughts turned inwards. Since turning in the proposal for her senior project the day before, a feeling of dread had settled over the Sullivan household.

Chloe could tell her dad felt it, not matter how chipper and carefree he tried to be. Had he not seemed to feel it, she would have chalked it up to her own paranoia. The dream of being a big time reporter and hitting a record shattering news story was just that, a dream. This was a history report on a local cold case to tease her own curiosity. There was nothing there to worry about.

“Hey, if you want some help with your projects, I’m staying late in the Torch office to get started on mine. We can have a study party, get pizza.” Chloe piped up, smiling brightly at her friends.

“Uh, I’d love to, but I have chores after school.” Clark said, shrugging awkwardly.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Pete said. “I could actually use some help.”

The rest of the day passed in the same dreary blur, classes passing as a backdrop to the worries replaying in Clark’s mind. Even when arriving home, at last, he couldn’t escape the horrible feeling of his mind being stuck in tar. Chores went by in barely a half an hour, saving a few minutes for not having to zoom around his father, who in his own stubbornness was conveniently at the feed store that afternoon. There was an inch of comfort in having that space, despite Clark’s own struggles in stubbornness.

It was later in the evening, just before dinner that Clark heard his mother calling from the porch. He dropped the hay he’d been spreading across the barn and started back. A knot formed in his stomach as he saw the controlled expression over Martha’s face, not betraying a single thought until Clark was close enough.

“There’s a message for you.” She said, stepping aside for Clark to come through the back door.

Walking up to the answering machine, Clark swallowed and carefully pushed to listen to the last message. There was a beep before finally, the message began to play. The voice was easily recognizable as the man from the bridge accident.

“ _Hello, Clark. Was there something wrong with the car?_ ”

It was so short and to the point, Clark’s brow drew up as he looked back at his mother. At last, when seeing her son’s own confusion, Martha let her poke face fall. She came up and squeezed his arm, her hand so warm through his jacket.

“What are you going to do?”

Part of Clark that sounded a lot like his father said to let it go, drop it and just call back later to give a better explanation. But there was a louder part of Clark that still wondered, was still curious what exactly had happened on that bridge. He shook his head, knowing exactly what he was going to do.

“I support whatever you want to do, but I’m not going to lie to your father. We’re going to figure it out together, but we’re a family.” Martha said, leaning up to kiss her son’s forehead. “I’ll bring him around, he won’t be mad forever when he finally understands that you’re growing up and you can make some decisions for yourself.”

There was a hitch in Clark’s breath as he tried to speak, his eyes tearing up a bit as he awkwardly laughed.

“Thanks, ma.” He said, smiling at his mother.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

With little resistance, Clark was pulled into a hug with his mother and quickly wrapped his arms around her much smaller frame. Since Clark was a kid, nothing could make him feel quite as good as a hug from his mother, her always warm arms holding him so tight he almost thought she could overpower his inhuman strength. It was the safest place in the world, even at eighteen years old. It was in Martha’s arms like that when Clark finally felt sure about his decision.

***

It was strange seeing how the Luthor mansion looked more alive in the dead of night than when Clark visited during the day. And sign of gardening from the day before had been cleared but every window glowed with bright, yellow lights that turned colors through the stained glass fixtures. After a knock on the door, Clark was swiftly brought through the mansion until they reached a set of double doors. As the doors were opened, Clark took in the large interior of the room.

Just ahead was the large stained glass fixture that made up the outer wall of the room. It was large and intricate and glittered in the flickering light of the fire off to Clark’s right. Just in front of that was a simple, glass top desk with a standing bar off to the left. Clark swallowed thickly as he walked in, taking in the leather seating in front of the fireplace.

“Make yourself comfortable, it’s not often we get visitors.” A voice called from above.

Clark turned quickly, his head whipping around before finding the source leaning over the second story banister. Just above, was a balcony of sorts overlooking the rest of the room, it’s walls covered in books. Leaned against the edge of it all was the bald man of before.

“Lex Luthor?” Clark asked.

The man chuckled before making his way down a short set of stairs and walking up to Clark, ignoring his extended hand.

“The one and only. I’m assuming you’ve come about my message. Was there something wrong?” Lex asked, a pleasant smile across his face.

“No, no, the car was… the car was great, I just can’t accept something like that,” Clark explained. “Besides, driving a fancy sports car like that is more likely to get me negative attention.”

“Really? I was always under the impression a man could get a lot of dates pulling up in a cherry red Porsche.”

The comment hung heavy in the air before Lex chuckled, giving Clark a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“But I have a feeling that flies a lot better at MetU than Smallville High.”

Clark chuckled, barely able to keep his gaze on Lex. The hand on his shoulder was noticeably colder than Clark had ever felt from another person, almost chilling him as he tried to continue the conversation.

“Definitely, though I honestly hope to go there myself, one day,” he said.

“Then why not keep the car?” The way Lex’s expression turned from calmly positive to cold and pointed was almost as chilling as his hands. “I think it suits you, anyways.”

“I really can’t.” Clark laughed awkwardly, stepping back. “If you’re trying to keep me from talking about you crashing, you don’t have to buy my silence. All you have to do is ask.”

There was a moment when for a split second, those piercing grey eyes looked surprised before Lex began to laugh.

“Oh, I’m not trying to buy anything from you, Clark.” He said, putting an emphasis on his name. “It’s the thanks for your kind action.”

“Well, I appreciate the thought, but a thank you is more than enough.” Clark said, finally making himself look away from Lex.

“Is it?” Lex mused, giving Clark’s shoulder a squeeze and trying to catch Clark’s eye again.

There was a strange pull at the base of Clark’s skull, an aching yank that made him want to look back at Lex. Slowly, he met his gaze again and tried to spy what it was pulling him in. He could only see the plain beauty of those grey eyes, a strange twinkle within them that made Clark’s heart skip a beat. This conversation was getting him no where, his resolve to be forward and demand to know what had happened that night crumbling as his mind raced.

“Yeah, it is.” However Clark spoke with how dry his mouth felt, he couldn’t be sure.

The faulter in Lex’s expression was unmistakable, a wrinkle in his forehead creasing up suddenly.

“Well… alright, then.” Lex gave his shoulder a squeeze and pat, motioning to the doors as they opened. “If that’s all you came here about, I do have more work to attend to. Have a good night, Clark.”

“You, too, Mr. Luthor.”

“Please,” Lex chuckled. “Mr. Luthor was my father, just call me Lex.”

Clark nodded, giving him a smile.

“Okay, Lex.”


	6. Chapter 6

The silence in the school was deafening as Chloe and Pete walked towards the front of the school, their chatter beating back the unnerving feeling that came with staying at the school into the night. At least in their hours of finding a little league Pete could coach for his project, Chloe had been able to keep her find off Clark. It would be lying if she said some of that middle school crush didn’t still linger in the back of her head, making her worry he was off with Lana or some guy he hadn’t even told her about.

It was definitely that slow pull away from each other as college approached that made her worry about the boys more. Her boys. Looking at the way Pete beamed now at the idea of coaching some little kids like him made her heart swell with pride, and she hoped to see Clark like that before they all set off for different schools. Heading to MetU without them was a guarantee that they would drift apart, eventually.

“Hey, are you sure you’re good finishing up alone?” Pete asked, bumping shoulders with Chloe.

“Yeah, I’ve just gotta shut down the Torch and take my proposal to the office.” She said, smiling shyly.

“Okay, keep an eye out for men in black,” he joked. “We don’t want to lose our star reporter.”

“Very funny! Don’t let Clark hear you joke like that, I think he’s genuinely worried about me looking into the Luthor’s.”

“He’s not wrong, you should know that.” Pete said, eyes cast down to the floor as they approached the front doors. “You know what the Luthor’s have done in Smallville.”

“Pete, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t forget what happened to your dad.”

They smiled at each other for a moment before Chloe finally leaned in and gave him a big, squeezing hug. He returned it with similar enthusiasm before slipping out the front doors. As they clicked shut and Chloe watched the retreating figure, the feeling of being watched grew in intensity.

Taking a deep breath, Chloe turned on her heels and began a purposeful trek back to the Torch office. At worst, it was the janitors, just beyond her focus and one would catch her attention at the last moment and get a good scare for the both of them. She kept telling herself that before making it into the office and beginning to turn things off. It was just her personal desktop and printer she left, finally settling at the clunky monitor and clicking on the screen.

For a few minutes, she wrote down the last pieces of research she’d done in the evening. There were very few articles on why the Luthor heir was in Smallville now, none saying much about him after Lex began his graduate program at Yale several years earlier. Apparently, nobody wanted his arrival in the small town to be a big deal, and for now they’d succeeded. The fact that Clark had even known surprised Chloe, who’d only found out through her father working lower management at the local fertilizer plant. Things had apparently changed quickly in the weeks leading up to his arrival, though what those changers were had been left unsaid. Instead, it reignited Chloe’s interest in the story.

Reading over the over fifteen year old article from the Smallville Ledger again, Chloe jumped at the sudden flash of lightening lighting up the windows. She hadn’t noticed the storm picking up, not realizing there was a drizzling of rain against the windows. She swallowed nervously, tapping off the computer and grabbing her bag.

All she had to do now was drop off her proposal at the office for an advisor to approve it in the morning. There was a second clap of thunder as she turned to the door and flicked off the lights, the flash of lightening illuminating a silhouette down the hall in front of Chloe. She gasped, stumbling back a few feet before calling out.

“Ted? Is that you?” She asked, walking up to the door frame. “Is it waxing night? I thought you were done for the night.”

In the dim light coming through the windows, Chloe could see the figure coming closer. It most definitely wasn’t Ted, her favorite custodian, with their black trench coat swishing about. As that clicked into place, she broke out into a sprint and began running down the right hall, another flash of lightening as the rain began pelting down harder illuminating her path. The sound of footsteps not far behind pushed Chloe further into the darkened halls, mind racing through four years of school to remember the fastest way to the office. If she cut through the theater, there was a door behind the curtains that would put her right at the office doors where she could barricade herself and call for help. It was a risky move, but if this person had scoped out the school at all they could cut Chloe off going around the theater.

Taking a sharp turn, Chloe flung herself into the side door of the theater and ran across the theater before she was followed. The pounding feet were getting louder as she reached the stage stairs on the opposite side of the theater. She let herself drop behind the stairs, hands clasped to her mouth to try and muffle her gasping breaths. The door slammed over, and everything went quiet again.

The only sound was the near silent puffs of breath as Chloe silently prayed to whoever would listen, tears beginning to burn in her eyes. All the jokes about becoming public enemy number one because of her unwavering search for the truth flashed through her mind and suddenly she began questioning everything. Why had she always fought so hard for the truth? Why did she put friendships in jeopardy for a story when it would do more harm than good? All the questions stopped as the house lights flickered on, row by row, until the whole space was glowing in a buzzing, yellow light.

Soft steps shuffled across the carpeted theater floor, making their way up towards the back of the house. They’d see Chloe for sure from there, something she hadn’t thought of while running for cover. And if they were heading all the way back there, there was a good chance they had some long range supports. The thoughts ran through Chloe’s mind for a long moment before the weighting of running and risking a shot versus being shot in a corner and suddenly she was running. Up the stairs and nearly to the curtains, there was a sudden, blunt thump to the back of Chloe’s head and everything went black.

***

It still felt weird being offered a driver to take Clark home, despite expecting the offer this time as he left. After the strange introduction to the infamous Lex Luthor in non-life-threatening way, there were a lot of things to think about. The last rays of sun peeked over the trees as rain clouds started moving in. Clark picked up the pace a bit faster than normal, still keeping it human speeds until leaving the mansion’s range. The long stretch of road from the mansion to the stretch of farming properties just outside of the main town area was less traveled than the other side of Smallville, giving Clark plenty of solitude to think to himself.

What else was down that road was a small cemetery unconnected to the local church, the gates surprisingly open as Clark walked passed. He looked over the iron doors, one vaguely swinging as he stopped to look in. There was a light deeper in, under a large willow tree that marked the center of the area. Clark looked around for a minute before moving forward, walking in near silence around the headstones before stopping just feet away.

The breath caught in Clark’s throat as he realized what he’d walked in on, stepping back quickly to retreat. A twig caught under Clark’s foot as he moved, snapping loudly and catching Lana’s attention.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Clark blurted, holding his hands up. “I-I saw the light, I didn’t realize it was you.”

“Clark?” The wide, doe eyed shock on Lana’s face slowly calmed, her face still flush from surprise. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was just out on a walk, the light caught my attention so, so I…” Clark trailed off as he saw Lana smile, turning down the setting on the electric lantern at the base of the headstone.

“I didn’t realize I’d made such a spectacle,” she laughed.

“Not like a big one,” Clark mumbled.

“If you’re not in a hurry home, you’re welcome to sit for a while.”

Lana scooted back and patted the patch of grass beside her, smiling kindly at Clark. For a moment, he went over everything before him. It was dark, secluded, and Clark was barely a day out of almost going into a frenzy on Chloe from hunger. Yet this time, approaching Lana and sitting, he couldn’t smell her tempting scent nearly as strong as before. It was still present, that warm cinnamon and blood that called out to him, but not nearly as overwhelming at their last interaction. It was still a mystery to Clark how overwhelming some people’s smell became.

“What are you doing out here?” Clark asked, his eyes finally settling on the headstone. “Oh…”

“Clark, meet my mom and dad.” Lana said, motioning to the marker with their respective names and life spans chiseled out.

“I, uh- I didn’t mean to… hi?”

Lana laughed, her voice bringing a welcome levity to the atmosphere.

“You weren’t interrupting, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said. “We were just finishing up.”

“We?”

“My parents and I.” Lana explained, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Whenever I’m confused or don’t know what to do, I just come here to talk to them. I know they can’t here me, but it makes me feel better.”

Clark couldn’t think of what to say, letting his eyes scan over the scene. The headstone was far cleaner and more maintained than the rest of the cemetery, fresh flowers newly placed at the base. The lantern gave a warm light to the somber scene, casting sharp shadows over Lana’s face. The locket Clark always remembered her wearing hung heavy around her neck as it glinted in that light.

“What are you so confused about?” He asked, getting comfortable in his spot.

“I’ve been debating whether I’m doing cheer this year again.” She said, sighing as she finally returned her attention to the grave. “Mom was head cheerleader back in her day, I always thought it brought us a little closer together, even if I never made it to captain.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you.”

That made Lana’s smile spread a little wider, her eyes glittering.

“Me, too.”

“What are you going to do if you’re not in cheer?” Clark asked, brow furrowed. “I mean, you always seemed so happy doing it.”

“Yeah, I guess I was.” Lana sighed, fingers fiddling with her locket. “But all summer I started to wonder if it was the cheer that made me happy or feeling closer to mom and dad, ya know?”

Clark nodded quickly, having no real idea what she meant. Even knowing he wasn’t the same species as his parents, Clark had never wondered about his birth parents. There was a very obvious reason he wasn’t kept, whether the even knew he survived or not.

“I might get a job, save up for school.” Lana mused before a sudden clap of thunder made the pair jump. “Oh crap, we should go!”

Jumping up together, Clark pulled up his jacket and hurried around the cemetery paths with the blue denim protecting them from the quickly mounting rainstorm. They just made it out of the iron gates when another clap of thunder caught them off guard. Lana fell back against the iron fence, trying to catch herself when the heavy smell of ozone and wet earth turned warm. The way Clark felt his mouth begin to water and teeth ache hit a split moment before he could recognize it all, turning slowly to see Lana already as wet as a drowned rat behind him, holding a gashed hand in front of her.

“Oh crap, that stings.” Lana hissed holding her hand out as it dripped with pink rain. “My car’s pulled off the road like five minutes away, let me give you a ride. I mean, if you’re okay with us stopping by the emergency room first, I think it needs stitches.”

“Lana…” The breath Clark tried to hold came out so easily, taking a deep inhale again and feeling himself draw closer. “It… You…”

“Are you okay?”

As soon as Clark’s eyes moved from her hand to her face, he saw the worry and confusion, he saw Lana. The girl he’d pined over for years, the girl he’d never been able to resist, the girl he wanted to eat more than anyone now bleeding in front of him. How badly he wanted to pounce, feeling his front teeth ache with a deep throb.

“I have… I have a thing with blood, um, please don’t-“

He stumbled back into the road, eyes trained again on that bloody hand in the light of Lana’s lantern.

“Clark, look out!”

As he reached the middle of the road, the warm cardamom and nutmeg still swirling in his nose, there was a sudden screech of tires and Clark was in the middle of headlights. The door opened and a dark figure threw himself out, running around to put a hand on Clark.

“Dad?”

“I’m sorry, it’s Chloe.” Jonathan Kent said, quickly looking from his son he’d nearly hit and the girl he was with. “Lana?”

“What’s wrong with Chloe?” Lana asked, hurrying closer.

Jonathan jumped when he saw the blood on her hand, looking between her and Clark.

“She was found unconscious at the high school, she’s being checked out at the hospital now,” he said. “What happened to you?”

“It’s not that bad, I promise.” She said, looking between the two men. “My car’s not far, I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Clark nodded silently, his eyes still screwed shut as the smell finally retreated with her. As soon as Lana was out of ear shot, Jonathan kept a strong, warm hand on his son’s shoulder, squeezing a lot like Lex just had not an hour ago.

“Clark? Clark, look at me, please.” When he finally got Clark to look up, a hesitant smile broke over Jonatha’s face. “Hey, you’re going to be okay. Let’s get you in the car, get you home and dry.”

“No, no, I need to see Chloe, what happened?”

“I’ll explain in the car.”


	7. Chapter 7

Hurrying through the medical center’s teal halls, Clark quickly found Chloe’s room. An officer was posted beside the door, his stalky form coming to attention as he noticed Clark focus on the room.

“Can I help you, son?” He asked.

“She’s my friend, I need to talk to her.” Clark said, going for the door.

“I can’t let you do that,” the officer said.

As he reached out to stop Clark, Chloe’s voice came out from the cracked door.

“Wait, no, he’s a friend!” She chirped. “Please let him in?”

As the door swung open, the officer looked between Chloe and Clark, an eyebrow raised.

“Okay, I’ll be right here keeping an eye.”

With a quick nod, Clark stepped inside and sat on the edge of the hospital bed. Chloe looked fine, if not a little worn out. No bandages or IVs or casts. But still her face had a turned up look Clark could only recognize as discomfort and pain.

“What happened? All dad said was you were in the hospital.” Clark asked, holding Chloe’s warm hand between his larger ones.

“Well, I was packing it up at the Torch and next thing I know I’m running from the men in black,” she said. “I… I thought you were being overly cautious before, that you’d just been having a generally bad day and were projecting it. But now…”

“Do I get to say I told you so?” He smirked, squeezing her hand.

“No, no, you don’t.” Chloe said, a smile forming. “I hadn’t even turned in my proposal yet, Clark. I’d just been searching news archives. That’s…”

They both looked back to the officer at the open door. The tall, lanky man was now towering over a nurse, the two engaged in conversation.

“It’s what, Chloe?”

“It’s suspicious. Those stories had to be flagged or something if someone looked at them.” She said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

There was so much unsaid in the statement, and Clark couldn’t believe any of it. It sounded so ridiculous, like something out of those thriller movies his mother liked to watch. Yet he lived in a world where he craved blood and seemed to grow weaker without a suitable substitute. Who was Clark to say what was believable?

“Please drop this story,” he whispered, leaning closer. “It’s obviously something someone doesn’t want looked into, don’t push it.”

“Don’t push it? What, are you my dad?”

“Chloe-“

“No, Clark,” Chloe snapped. “I won’t drop it. There’s something going on here. What if I’m right?”

“If you’re right, you’re risking everything. You understand that, right?”

All Chloe could do was huff and fall back on the bed, wincing as the sore spot throbbed. Without thinking about it, Clark reached around her and placed one of his large hands under her head. The sudden chill of his skin eased the ache, Chloe letting out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t think I’ve been more thankful for poor circulation before.” She joked, smiling back at Clark.

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as he rubbed his thumb along her scalp.

“What happened, exactly?”

“I’m afraid it’s not a terribly heroic story, but I ran as soon as I saw the guy. Figured I could make it to the office through the theater. I was running and… it was so… I don’t know, it doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t?” Clark leaned in, brow furrowed.

“When I was hiding behind the stage stairs, I could hear them walking to the back row. I know that’s what happened, I know those acoustics. But when I was running for the door… they were on me, in seconds flat.”

The sheer chill that ran through Clark overwhelmed him, quickly withdrawing his hand and leaning back on the bed.

“What?”

“I know! It sounds impossible,” she said. “But they knocked me out as soon as my foot hit the stage and there’s no way someone could cross that theater that fast.”

The first person that appeared in Clark’s mind was Lex, that tall frame and unwavering confidence that nearly overpowered him in their first meeting. He swallowed that thought down as soon as the thoughts of Lex touching his shoulder and leaning close played out in his mind. There was no denying Lex wasn’t normal, but still trying to think about there being more like Clark was uncomfortable, or thinking he would go out of his way to intimidate a high schooler over his own kidnapping.

“Your head has to be killing you, you should rest.” Clark said, giving Chloe’s hand a squeeze.

“If you’re about to something impulsive, at least tell me.” She said, sighing. “I know that look, Clark. That’s the look you got when I told you Sean Kelvin asked me out as a joke to the 8th grade formal.”

“I’m not going to do anything, okay?”

“That’s what you said before you got suspended and banned from the formal for starting a fight.”

Clark sighed deeply, finding an endeared annoyance in Chloe’s chiding.

“We’re not in middle school, I think you can trust me not to try fighting a billionaire,” he said.

“Fine,” she said.

With that, Chloe settled herself in the bed and closed her eyes. Clark lingered for a second before walking out, watching as her breath slowed and face relaxed. Knowing her, she’d be out in the next minute, using her own supernatural ability to fall asleep anywhere at anytime. Clark had always been somewhat impressed with the outrageous ways she’d decide to sleep while growing up, but now he could see it was just the next step in Chloe’s refusal to not be in control of everything at all times, even her own body.

***

The rain was still pounding down when Lana finally pulled up to her house. She sat back after turning off the car and breathed for a moment, flexing her bandaged hand for a moment. The stitches tugged at her skin with a sharp sting at each flex under the cotton bandage. She felt stupid for being so clumsy, especially after seeing the way it had made Clark freak out. Of everyone she knew, Lana never pegged him for someone with such an aversion to blood and injury, but she couldn’t say they knew each other that well to begin with.

With a heavy sigh, she got out of the car and hurried up the front stairs, bandaged hand pressed closely to her stomach as she tried to keep it dry. The house was completely dark as she opened the front door, slowly pushing the door closed behind her. It latched with an echoing click before Lana clicked the deadbolt in place.

The only sound through the two story was the rain pelting itself against the windows. With how late she was, it wasn’t surprising Aunt Nell had already gone to bed. Part of Lana had almost hoped she’d be sitting there on the edge of the couch, sipping her tea and waiting to question her about where she’d been. Of course, she’d assume Lana had been staying out late with Whitney, who also seemed to barely have time for her anymore. But it felt easier to answer those questions than tell her aunt she’d been at mom and dad’s graves again.

That was an argument long dead, where she hoped it would stay.

With a sigh, Lana set her keys on the front door table and started shedding her outer layer on the way upstairs. Jacket and purse dumped at her pristinely organized desk, she fall on the freshly washed sheets over her bed. Fresh cotton and artificial lavender wafted up Lana’s nose before she rolled over and looked at herself in the mirror across the room.

One arm tucked under her head and the over draped across her stomach, Lana took in her own reflection. She never liked doing that, looking at herself so closely, but the habit had been burned into her for years. Years of her aunt preening over her, years of hearing her praises from everyone she met, years of boys following her like puppy dogs. Not even dating Whitney, an arguable king among high schoolers, had seemed to deflect the attention. No, she still lived on that pretty pedestal.

Tonight had alleviated some of that feeling, though. Seeing Clark at the cemetery had been surprising, to say the least. But talking to him normally for once? The change between him at school and him that night had been shocking to say the least. They’d been in the same class as long as she could remember, but so rarely could he get the words out around her.

That’s when Lana first wondered if there was something wrong with her. Clark wasn’t the only kid that seemed to lose himself around her. It was almost every boy she’d met, the inevitable “You’re Perfect” declaration coming not long after meeting.

So she found herself in front of the mirror almost everyday, trying to see what it was. What was is about her that seemed to make everyone think she was so perfect? Looking over her soft features, dark eyes, pink lips, she couldn’t even see what was particularly pretty, at least in an awe-inspiring way. She wasn’t as gaunt and striking as a model, her petite figure still clinging to baby fat where other girls had started growing into their bodies.

In the self criticism, Lana’s eyes were eventually drawn to the locket around her neck. The chain gleamed in what little light came through the window, far brighter than the actual locket. It was dull and scratched, fitting perfectly in the center of her palm, long and octagonal. A smile spread across Lana’s face as she watched it hang around her neck in the mirror.

The shadows of the room shifted as the trees shook around the windows. Low rumbling pulled Lana’s attention from her spiraling thoughts, sitting up quickly and looking back at the window. The thunder came soon after, sending a shiver down her spine.

Something about storms in Smallville always made her nervous, falling into the town’s own storm anxiety. It was a uniquely Smallville worry, the idea of twisters far from their thoughts every time a storm like this came through. Lana knew it was just confirmation bias, any accident or tragedy that happened during a Smallville storm just fed into the worry of what was passing through.

Or so she thought before the lightening followed the rumbling, lighting up her room. It was just out of the corner of her eye before Lana turned back to the mirror and saw the dark, shadowy arm reaching around her back and moving for the locket. The next thing she remembered, Lana started to scream.


	8. Chapter 8

Monday was about what Clark had expected. Chloe wasn’t at the bus stop or the front gate where they usually waited for the late party. Of course, Pete had heard and even visited Chloe already. The news of a girl found unconscious in the school theater had circulated the town as soon as an ambulance was called to Smallville High. The difference in school spirit was like night and day as the usual background noise of student chatter was hushed and subdued, peopled huddled a lot closer as they gave Clark and Pete side glances.

If they expected Clark and Pete to give them details to their friends trauma, they were sorely mistaken. Clark kept his head down as they went about the day. Of course, there was the obligatory morning announcement to try setting things straight. The story was conveniently vague due to the investigation being on going, but promising the school is completely safe in the meantime. Thanks to a generous, and anonymous, donation, the school would be investing in better school security in the meantime.

That only made the whispering worse.

The biggest logical theory was that a homeless person had wondered in and gotten spooked by Chloe being in the school so late. But of course, there were some less grounded theories gaining traction.

At lunch, Clark and Pete sat in the Torch office, eating at the empty desks in a sustained silence. There was no knowing how much Chloe had told Pete when he visited, if he had his own suspicions about what happened. About who did it.

After finishing his sack lunch, Clark wandered around the office, stopping in front of Chloe’s desk. The usual mess of her desk was missing this year. Usually, by the second month of the school year, there was stacks of papers and folders stacked high around her. Now there was just a little stack of color coded floppy disks by the monitor.

“Did she tell you what happened?” Pete asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah, what about you?”

“She told me what happened, but not what she thinks it was.”

Clark sat in Chloe’s chair, swiveling back and forth as he watched Pete.

“What do you mean?”

“Clark, what the others don’t know is where Chloe was sticking her nose,” Pete explained. “You can’t tell me you haven’t been worried about Chloe looking into the Luthor’s.”

“Yeah, I can’t… but I don’t know how we can really go off that.” Clark said, leaning back in the chair. “How can we tell the police we think the Luthor’s are sending goons after people looked into a cold case?”

Pete sighed, zipping up his back pack and tossing his own sack lunch in the trash. He paused, eyes focused somewhere in the distance before sighing again.

“What if the cops got a tip?” He asked, brows raised. “Chloe was looking into a cold case, if they knew about her article they would know where to look besides blaming some homeless guy or passing vagabond. If they don’t, it’s going to get swept under the rug. Who do you think that generous donation was actually from?”

Clark would be lying if he didn’t say he had suspected it was Luthor money that was paying for the new security guards. Since he’d talked to Chloe, Clark had been thinking of Lex. As if he hadn’t already haunted Clark in the back of his mind, now when he wasn’t worried about Chloe, Lex’s confident smile and persuasive words played out again. He may have insisted that he wasn’t trying to buy Clark’s silence about the crash, but that was impossible to really say. Pushing such an expensive gift could have been a short sighted attempt from someone who’s always been able to throw around that money, or it could have been incentive.

“Let’s be real, Pete, if the Luthor’s could pull something like this what’s stopping them from coming for us if we start implicating them?” He said, a heavy feeling weighing down his chest. “They could pay off anyone they wanted.”

For a moment, Pete looked like he wanted to argue before he sat back and ran a hand over his face. It was an almost hopeless feeling that infected the Torch office as reality set into the two friends. Pete, realizing how futile the whole idea was, and Clark, realizing who he just may have gotten himself involved with.

The school bell pulled them out of the silence, getting packed up to head to class. With only a couple periods left, they said their goodbyes and headed down different halls.

The hush of the day had grown uncomfortable the more Clark heard. Some suspected it was a student or teacher, maybe it was a break up gone wrong. As if the fact they lived in a quiet, small town made the drama of a student being attacked after hours not nearly exciting enough.

“Hey, Kent,” a voice called.

Clark looked up, turning to look for the source. A guy, about an inch shorter than Clark with a red crewcut and letterman jacket, was leaning against some lockers as his friends put their books away.

“Yeah, you were friends with Chloe, right?”

The past tense unnerved Clark, but he still nodded.

“So, who do you think it was?” He asked, looking him up and down.

“I don’t know.” Clark answered, turning again to leave.

“There’s a very compelling theory it was a teacher,” he continued. “Everyone knows that Sullivan chick is an overachiever, who says she wouldn’t try for some extra credit.”

Clark was frozen in place, listening to the words as they passed through his mind. A slow warmth started in his gut, growing up to his face as his jaw clenched and unclenched. He could feel as the guy leaned close behind him, chuckling.

“Or maybe she was setting up her own front page head-“

Before he could say more, Clark’s first connected with his face. The impact stung, knuckled busting against cheekbone before the guy was went back against the lockers. The clang of head against metal snapped Clark out of the momentary rage that had possessed him. The hall was dead silent for a moment before what happened registered in the minds of the guy’s friends.

“Holy shit, Randy!” One of them yelled, dropping next to the unconscious guy.

Before Clark saw it coming, he was pinned up against the wall by the other guy in a letterman, their faces inches apart.

“The _fuck_ is wrong with you?!” He spat in Clark’s face.

A hand clapped on the shoulder of the kid holding Clark and pulled him back, Principal Kwon standing between them. The loud chatter of the hall calmed down again before he looked between them.

“You two, my office.” He snapped, looking over the knocked out Randy on the floor.

As Clark followed the guy just pulled off him, his eyes fell down to his fist. His knuckles were bloodied, the strange smell of his own blood and Randy’s mixing as he watched thin scabs forming already. The pink bruising was already visible around his knuckles. Taking a deep breath, he slipped his hands in his jacket pockets, cringing for a moment.

The other guy went in first, leaving Clark sitting in the waiting area of the office. From where he was sitting, Clark could see the theater door just adjacent to the office one that Chloe had been running for last night. It was just there, so close but so far away. He thought of what that must have felt like, the panic as Chloe threw herself over the stage to try and reach it.

But she didn’t know what she was up against.

Neither did he, but he had a very good idea.

After an agonizingly long ten minutes, the office door opened and the blond guy walked out, head held high as he passed Clark. Principal Kwon stood in the doorway, watching Clark, and motioned for him to come in. Taking a deep breath, Clark walked in and took a seat in front of the large, wood desk. The office wasn’t incredibly decorated, but what was there wasn’t surprising. On his desk were photos of Principal Kwon’s family, his degree and awards displayed on the wall behind him.

“So, I heard Kevin’s side of this.” He said, sitting behind the desk. “I’m going to hear you out, but you have to understand you will be suspended for the week. When we’re done here, I’m going to have to call your parents.”

Clark sank a little in his chair as that sank in. Since he started butting heads with other kids in school, Martha and Jonathan had spent so much time teaching him that fighting wasn’t the answer, that he was too strong to do that with other kids. If he wasn’t careful, he would seriously get in trouble. Now he was.

“I understand, Mr. Kwon,” he said. “You have to understand, that guy was saying stuff. He… I just…”

“Clark, we all get angry, but that doesn’t mean you can just hit people when you don’t like what someone has to say.”

“He said Chloe deserved to get attacked last night!” He snapped. “I couldn’t let him spread rumors about her!”

As he retracted from his outburst, Principal Kwon sat in silence. He contemplated the statement before sighing.

“Can you tell me exactly what he said?” He asked, pulling closer a notepad and poising a pen over it. “This will come up when I talk to Randy’s parents.”

Giving himself a moment to calm down, Clark explained everything that guy had said. He tried to be apologetic, accepting the punishments handed out, but part of him couldn’t help but feel some kind of justice in his actions. At least in an environment like high school, sometimes getting the upper hand didn’t come from having conflict management skills or being well spoken.

Everything Clark said got written down on the notepad before Principal Kwon set down his pen and took a deep breath.

“I’m going to call your parents. This won’t be overlooked, but we also don’t know how badly Randy is going to shape up,” he said.

Clark’s stomach clenched as he heard the sound of head meeting locker and the horrible silence after. But he forced himself to nod.

“Okay. You can wait outside.”

Without hesitation, Clark threw on his backpack and hurried back to his seat by the windows. He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, knuckles stinging, as took deep breaths as the minutes ticked by. Students walked passed the windows and peeked at Clark when they thought he wasn’t paying attention. Eventually, the bell rang and pulled everyone out of the halls. It was a while after that when Clark saw his father walking up. They locked eyes for a moment before Jonathan sighed and waved Clark over.

There were just as few words shared in the truck home, blowing up dust on the country roads. The silent car ride came to an end as they pulled into the long driveway, Jonathan putting the truck in park as he took a deep breath.

“Clark, I know what Chloe means to you, but you can’t just blow up like that. You’re-“

“Not like other people, I get it.” Clark finished, sighing. “Dad, I know I’m still grounded and I know the talk.”

There was a pause where Clark expected his dad to come back with how he obviously _doesn’t_ remember the talk considering how he just attacked someone. But it didn’t come. After a moment, Jonathan took a deep breath.

“I still need to talk to your mother about it. In the meantime, get started on chores before you do your homework,” he said.

“Okay, dad.” Clark said, sliding out of the car.


	9. Chapter 9

It was a day before Clark’s punishment was decided. From the school, Clark was still suspended for the week. And finally, from his parents, he was given a light grounding. Martha had reasoned Clark was beating himself up enough already, why made it worse? But they still didn’t hear from the family of Randy, who was threatening charges but had yet to take legal action.

As his parents worked together in the barn, Clark finally let his mind wander around the last couple days. The first thing that grabbed his attention was seeing Lex again. So badly, he wanted to ask him straight forward if he knew anything about Chloe’s attack, if he knew why the timing of her looking into him was so perfectly aligned with her getting chased through their school. There was no way he could get away with going somewhere that wasn’t visiting Chloe or playing basketball with Pete with how his parents were hovering about, but he everything screamed to see Lex again.

Hurrying to the phone, Clark went through the messages from the last week and was able to pull up the number that had called them. When Lex had left that single sentence message. Before dialing, Clark looked out the window to make sure his parents were still busy.

The ringing seemed to go on and on as Clark waited, looking back over his shoulder at the window before there was a click at last.

“Luthor residence, how may I help you?” A polite, soprano voice Clark recognized said.

“Uh, hi, is Lex around?” Clark cleared his throat, cringing at himself for how awkward he sounded.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Luthor is indisposed at the moment,” they said. “Can I take a message?”

“Just…” What was he going to say? Clark hadn’t actually thought of how to open this all to a perfect stranger, let alone if he had to leave a message. “Tell him that Clark Kent called, please.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you. Goodbye.”

As soon as the words were out, Clark hung up and put the phone back on the hook. He was taking deep breaths, finally composing himself and looking back as his parents approached from the barn.

To say the rest of his day was eventful was far from true. Chores were done in minutes, leaving Clark with nothing but puttering around the farm and finishing his homework. The homework wasn’t even touched until after dinner.

As the evening wore on, Clark took to the solitude of the barn loft. The fact that his parent’s even let him claim the space had always felt like a win, dragging out an old, free couch and slowly building up the pad he’d always wanted. It was ramshackle compared to the traditional man cave, but it was still his own place. His own haven.

“You know, I’m not one to judge keeping a message short and to the point, but hearing ‘Clark called’ without a follow up really doesn’t give much to go on.”

Clark jumped, dropping his pencil before hurrying to the stairs. There at the bottom step was Lex, hand on the railing as he looked around the barn. It was part fascination, part amusement before those storm grey eyes locked onto Clark. He looked an awful lot like the first night they met. Long, black jacket over his pristine clothing, his black driving gloves in one hand.

“Hey,” was all Clark could get out.

“I hope dropping in like this is okay.” Lex said, smiling as he started up the stairs. “All the lights were out except up here, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, just… I wasn’t exactly expecting a house call.” Clark admitted.

“What were you expecting?” Lex asked, leaning against the banister in front of Clark. “Hopefully, something to make up for the car.”

“Are you sure you aren’t trying to pay me off?” Clark shot back, taking his seat back on the couch.

“Don’t think about it as paying you off, it’s repaying you for a courageous act. A favor for a favor.”

It didn’t seem a point really worth arguing over with Lex, despite still feeling there was some attempt to keep him quiet. To hold something over him. Instead, Clark swallowed thickly and focused on the thing he’d been struggling over.

“Do you know anything about the attack at the high school?” He asked, watching Lex from under his lashes.

“I heard about it, that Sullivan girl.” Lex said, making a slow round about the loft. “Her father’s one of the managers at the LuthorCorp plant, I heard he was taking some time off. How is she doing?”

“She’s okay. Shaken, but got out with a bump on the head.” Clark swallowed, trying to organize his thoughts before saying something stupid. “You know, she was working on a story when it happened.”

“She’s a writer?”

Lex sounded so amused as he looked back from the loft window. The hint of a smile over his lips made Clark’s stomach clench, trying to figure out if his entertainment came from Chloe’s case or how enraptured he seemed with the view. Clark couldn’t blame him, the view from the barn was beautiful. His childhood telescope had always lived right there, the perfect place to stargaze.

“A reporter.” He said, walking to stand next to Lex. “She was actually doing a report on a local kidnapping cold case.”

“You think whoever attacked your friend is the kidnapper.” Lex filled in, leaning against the open edge of the barn window. “And in small town logic, the newcomer is the prime suspect.”

Clark’s mouth went dry as he tried to think of how to explain it was more than just that.

“I promise you, I have a solid alibi for that night.” He continued. “I was having a conference call with a very open business partner.”

“That’s good if the police question you.”

“But you don’t think it’ll convince anyone else?”

Clark sighed, running a hand through his messy hair before turning from the window and leaning against the wall. There was a long moment of sustained silence, somehow comfortable between the two men before Clark shook his head. The thoughts of how much to trust this perfect stranger were being outweighed by how desperately Clark wanted to believe this man was like him. How much he wished that meant he could trust him. Yet, he knew better. He thought he did.

“Listen, Clark…” Lex walked closer, hang trailing along the window sill. “I can hire a private investigator to help your friend, to find who did this to her. Maybe even help solve the case if the police haven’t been able to do their job. Think of it as a favor to make up for the car.”

That damn car again. Clark really looked at Lex as he tried to push the favor, how closed off his expression compared to the care in his tone. Who ever this guy was, he was somehow more hot and cold than Clark, reaching out despite how quickly he shut down any probing into himself.

“You know, saving your life wasn’t a favor to be returned later,” Clark said. “I was right there, I wasn’t going to let you drown.”

Despite everything Clark expected, Lex started chuckling, his head shaking back and forth.

“Yeah, I’m sure you would think that way.” Lex said, his right brow shooting up in emphasis. “Let me know what your friend says about the offer, I do want to help out. Even if I don’t owe you.”

There was a moment when Clark didn’t know what to say, instead searching Lex’s face for something. Everything in him screamed honesty, but something in Clark felt like he was missing something. It was like he’d spaced out and missed something Lex said, yet he’d heard every word clearly, the implication simply lost on him.

“Okay.”

“Have a good night, Clark.” Lex said, holding a hand out to shake Clark’s.

As soon as Clark’s hand was in Lex’s, not thinking as he took it, his hand was pulled forward and being examined. Lex’s cool hand was grasping his hand tighter than anyone had before, holding him still despite the urge to pull away. He’d forgotten the now green tinged bruises and tough scab.

“This is new.” Lex said, brow raised as he watched Clark. “Or at least, I think they are. You didn’t look so banged up last time we met.”

The way this man made Clark sputter for an answer was frustrating, pulling his hand away quickly.

“I’m a fast healer, that’s all. It wasn’t that bad, anyways.” He said, stuffing his hands in jean pockets.

“Really?” Lex’s head cocked to the side as he sized him up. “What does the other guy look like?”

The two shared a look before Clark quickly turned towards the window, clearing his throat as he begged his mind to work.

“He’s… probably in the hospital.” He admitted.

“Damn.” Lex laughed.

“It’s not… I wasn’t thinking, hit him against the lockers,” he said. “I just… he was saying things about my friend, Chloe.”

“And let me guess, you’re looking at assault and battery charges while he’s getting away with libel?”

Clark’s silence spoke volumes, refusing to look at the other man. With a sigh, he nodded. There was a moment of silence before Lex clapped him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, these things tend to work themselves out. You’re just high schoolers, anyways.”

Clark couldn’t help but laugh, for once happy someone had dismissed the fact that he was a legal adult. Since his birthday, since starting senior year, it felt like everyone expected him to just grow up right then and there.

“It’ll be fine, don’t stress on it.” Lex said, giving Clark’s shoulder a squeeze before walking back to the loft stairs. “By the way, what was that cold case your friend is investigating?”

“There was a kidnapping, sixteen years ago.” He said, watching as Lex so easily leaned against the banister overlooking the rest of the barn. “She thinks the kid is still alive.”

“That’s quite the claim, isn’t that statistically improbable?”

“Chloe has a god head on her shoulders, I trust her.”

“And what does it take to earn the trust of Clark Kent?”

The bullet fast question knocked the breath out of Clark as he felt his face warm, his mouth opening for a second before shutting again. He didn’t have anything fast and snappy to throw back, his brain in overdrive to try and figure out the double edge being proposed.

“Just be honest.” He finally said.

“Okay.” Lex smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he finally started down the stairs. “Goodnight, Clark.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for car crashes

Oh the things Lex had expected to find in Smallville. Corporate responsibility at the local fertilizer plant his father thrust onto him, maybe a warm body to two to warm his bed, but never this. Never some strange high school senior that kept nagging at the back of his mind, calling him up multiple times a week to get his attention all to ask about a suspicious attempt on his best friends life.

No, Lex never expected that.

With a sigh, he sat in the drivers seat of his new sports car, parked not ten minutes from the Kent farm. The black, sleek car was nearly invisible this close to midnight as he looked over a list of PI’s his assistant had already gathered. None really caught his attention, not yet. They had potential, but this was a sensitive issue.

And working on that sensitive issue was hard as he remembered the look of shame and disappointment on Clark’s face as he questioned him about the from school. Yes, there would most definitely be a court case. But not if Lex had anything to say about it.

With a sigh, he tossed the dossier of potential investigators into the passenger seat and slipped out of the car. None of his curiosities could be satiated if Clark was so preoccupied with juvenile fights.

It was a nice little house he approached, almost Rockwellian in appearance with little flower beds along the walkway up to the porch. This late they were sure to be asleep, all the better for Lex’s plans. Up the butter yellow stairs he went, walking up to one of the skinny windows on either side of the door. Looking inside, he focused within and found what he was looking for.

“Hello, darling.” He said, pushing further.

He could feel the docile mind most open, unfogged by brain injury, like warmed putty dripping through his fingers. It was so easy to twist and pull, leading closer and closer. He could almost see in his mind the floral wallpaper and family photos passing by before two white forms appeared in the dark of the house. They couple came up to the door, unclicking the deadbolt and letting it swing open.

The middle aged pair were clad in their sleepwear, the woman in a white nightgown and her husband in boxers and a cotton shirt. The small town life had been good on them, letting them grow soft and old as wrinkles and dark freckles covered their exposed skin. There was something to endearing about them, despite the glassy look of their unfocused eyes.

“Good evening.” Lex said, chuckling to himself. “I understand your son had an accident recently.”

The man nodded in his stupor.

“Well, that’s all it was, right? An accident,” Lex said. “An accident, of no one’s fault except his own. Your son needs to get a better handle on himself. There’s no need to call a lawyer or get the Kent’s involved.”

The woman nodded this time, catching Lex’s eyes for a moment. If his heart still beat, it may have stopped as an image appeared in his mind looking over the middle aged woman. Her red curls hung just below her jaw, glassy brown eyes looking straight through him. For a moment, a desperate second Lex wished he could reach out and stop, she looked twenty years younger as a ruby red smile made her nose crinkle up. His heart clenched, the shock loosening his grip on the couple as they began blinking, slowly.

“Sleep!” He shouted, holding a hand up to the woman’s face.

Her eyes froze in mid-blink and Lex focused his attention back to the man. Yes, the man would be the best target. These small town’s were predictably easy, he smelled of lost glory days and a short temper that would stop any talk of Clark Kent in that house forever.

“You don’t want to get involved with the Kent’s, you don’t want to sue them for damages, you won’t _touch_ Clark Kent.” Lex hissed, leaning close as he watched his eyes.

There was a slow nod before he stepped back and took a deep breath.

“Go back to bed, have a good night, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” He said, letting a feeling of composure wash over him.

The two couple turned from Lex then, starting their slow walk back to the stairs. Lex watched through that little window again, seeing them shamble upstairs and back into their beds. They’d wake up as normal, albeit a little confused at how they ended up on top of their sheets.

With the deed done, Lex vanished from the porch as he hurried back to the car. He held a cold glove to his forehead, the exhaustion of it all finally getting to him. Everything in Lex screamed for release, screamed to cry and shout and throw as the memory resurfaced. Those warm eyes watching as he fell asleep, warm fingers running through his baby curls, husky laugh begging for him to keep up his silly act.

It burned, it burned worse than if Lex had flung open the window to the morning sun. That pain behind his eyes only grew worse as he prayed for a moment of humanity, a moment to cry and mourn.

“Mom…” He breathed, jaw clenched tight against it. “Fuck…”

It wasn’t clear what hurt more, the sudden slap as the memory of his mother was wrenched up from the depths or the fact that his body wouldn’t even let him show how much it hurt.

All Lex could do was scream, hitting the steering wheel that easily bent under the pressure before starting the car. The engine revved as he pushed down on the gas pedal, whipping out of the bushes he’d parked in and kicking up storm clouds worth of dust behind him. The worse the burning behind his eyes got, the harder he pressed down. He threw the wheel to the right suddenly and barely made the turn down the long stretch of road that slowly turned from dusty to tree covered and blotted out what light the moon and stars could provide.

The road wound here and there, but Lex didn’t bother to turn on the headlights. He didn’t want to. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to feel it. He didn’t. He didn’t. He didn’t. He didn’t.

And then the crunch of metal rang out. The air bags were no help as Lex’s head slammed against the head rest and bounced into the steering wheel where it was imbedded. The nose of the car looked almost like a hoof it had been so perfectly split by the three, which was now crushing the roof and impacted Lex’s right shoulder, now thoroughly dislocated.

The forest was perfectly silent after the sudden collision. Not a creature stirred in the darkness as everything waited.

With a heavy sigh, Lex pulled his face from the steering wheel, reaching up with his good arm to pluck pieces of plastic and metal from his skin after feeling the bones snap back into place. The door was jammed, of course, but gave easily as he laid his shoulder into it. Holding the lame arm, he slipped one leg out at a time and waited until he could feel most breaks snap into place. The shoulder joint slipped in easily with a pop before he stretched his neck and stood, walking back to go over the damage.

“Oh, shit.” Lex huffed, walking around the car to look in the passenger seat.

The dossier wasn’t savable in the wreck, it would all have to go. He sighed, watching as a black van slowly pulled up, headlights illuminating the mess. It was a good response time compared to his last accident, Lex had to admit. Walking around to the passenger side, Lex slipped in and buckled in, looking over to his security guard, Darius.

“Get a team out before morning,” he said. “I don’t want a scrap left.”

“Yes, sir.” Darius said, turning the van around the heading back towards the mansion.


	11. Chapter 11

It had been several days since Lex had dropped in on Clark, and he still didn’t know how to feel. There was part of him that felt silly for having pulled him into Chloe’s mess, but Lex had already been thinking he would be suspected. He’d already come with promises of assisting the investigation. But it was just to clear his own name, Clark kept reminding himself in those slow days after, and to keep him quiet about that night.

His mind kept wandering back to the quick way Lex had taken his now unblemished hand, how carefully he’d inspected the injuries.

How cold his touch had been.

Not cold, necessarily, just not as warm as others. It was like stepping into an air conditioned room after spending the first warm day of spring working outside. In all of Clark’s years, he hadn’t met someone like that before. It only lended to how he haunted Clark’s thoughts.

“Hey, earth to Clark.” Pete said, waving a hand in front of Clark’s face as they pulled up to the Beanery. “Don’t tell me you were spaced out the _whole time_? Come on! You’re supposed to rub it in Chloe’s face how bad of a driver I’m not.”

“Sorry, Pete.” Clark tried to smile, unbuckling and hopping out of the car. “Maybe instead of insisting on rubbing it in her face you should show Chloe you’re actually a good driver.”

“What the fun in that?”

Laughing, the two walked into the coffee shop and searched for Chloe. She’d been stuck in her room for the better part of the week, barely coming to the phone when her friends called except to invite them out at last.

Without fail, there was Chloe. Her book bag strung over the back of her chair, notepad and loose papers taking over the whole four person table, and a gone cold coffee cup forgotten in the middle of it all. She looked up, smiling and waving her boys over.

“Hey, Chloe! How are you feeling?” Clark asked as he leaned over to hug her.

Even standing up, she wasn’t tall enough to each Clark, giving him the best squeeze she could. Pete followed suit before sitting across from her, gently moving pages out of the way on the blond colored table.

“Oh, great, if you ignore the splitting headaches and vertigo. Doctors say it’ll go away, I don’t have a concussion, at least.” She said, eyes flicking to Clark across the table as she sat. “Unlike some people.”

Clark’s face immediately fell, eyes going to the table.

“Hey, hey, no, don’t mope like that.” She said quickly, reaching out for his hand. “Pete told me everything, I honestly… don’t condone it, but do appreciate it.”

“Besides, it’s been almost a week and you haven’t heard anything, your parents didn’t even if you a real punishment.” Pete said, shouldering off his jacket.

“Only because Clark’s such a boy scout. They probably don’t know what to do with a sudden rebellion.” Chloe laughed, sipping her coffee.

As they shared a chuckle, Clark’s attention was suddenly pulled by the waitress walking up, clearing her throat. He looked up, frozen for a moment as he and Lana locked eyes. He hadn’t seen her much since his suspension, catching brief glances through his telescope at night when she sat on the porch of her aunts house reading. But there she stood, a black apron tried around her waist and notepad in hand.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted. “Can I get something started for you?”

“Lana…” Clark trailed off, his mind wiped blank.

“Hey, since when was Lana Lang slinging coffees?” Pete asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Since cheerleading didn’t have as much real world application as I’d previously thought.” She said, smiling. “I need to save up for school, anyways.”

“Cheers to that.” Chloe said, lifting her cup to Lana before draining the last of it. “Can I get another refill?”

“Course!” Lana smiled, taking the cup on it’s saucer. “Anything for you boys?”

“I’ll have what she’s having.” Pete said.

He tried to nudge Clark discreetly as he stared.

“I, uh, same. Same for me.” Clark sputtered, a too wide smile crossing his face.

“Alright, three lattes coming up.”

Lana gave them a bright smile before heading back to the counter.

“At least we know, cheer uniform or no, Clark Kent will always have a soft spot for Lana Lang.” Chloe said, pulling all her loose notes into one pile and straightening them out.

“I wonder how Whitney is dealing with this,” Pete said. “It was damn picturesque, you could almost see the white picket fence.”

“Pete, it’s Smallville, everyone has a white picket fence.”

“Clark doesn’t.”

“Huh?”

At the sound of his name again, Clark finally turned from watching Lana. Pete and Chloe shared a look, a moment of silent communication Clark could never understand, before they laughed.

“Well, now that that’s settled…” Chloe laid the notes into a plain file folder, looking around for a moment. “Who wants to help me crack this case?”

“You have to be kidding me!” Pete sighed, sliding down in his seat.

“You’re still going to pursue this?” Clark asked, trailing off as Lana returned and set out the three lattes.

“Enjoy!” Lana said.

“Thank you.” The three echoed as she left.

A sip or two later, Chloe leaned in again and looked between her friends.

“Look, I obviously ruffled some feathers, so there’s something I’m right about.”

“There’s always something you’re right about.” Pete said, his right brow quirked up as he watched her over his coffee.

She stuck out her tongue before turning to Clark.

“Come on, you know we can’t just drop this.”

“Yes, we can,” he said. “Why not just let the police work on it?”

“Because it’s _my_ story.”

The two guys groaned, the line searing into their minds like it did every time Chloe tried to fight them on a story. Sometimes Clark wondered where all that energy would have turned had Chloe never pursued journalism.

“Well, I’m going to grab the sugar. Don’t hold back on my account.” He said, standing.

“Yeah, sugar.” Chloe said, wiggling her brow as she took another sip.

Clark only rolled his eyes, walking towards the drink counter. Just to the left of the barista station, Clark took a moment to look over the stir sticks and communal spice shakers. He grabbed a couple sugar packets, hovering for a moment before he felt eyes on him.

“If you’re in the need for sugar, I’d recommend the mocha next time.”

Turning, he smiled as Lana leaned against the divider separating the counter and barista station. From last time Clark spoke to Lana, she seemed far more relaxed, as if she finally found her element in the chaos that had been the last month.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked.

“Good, I’m doing pretty good.” She said, tucking a piece of dark hair behind her ear. “Got a pretty nice set up here, you know.”

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect you to turn over a new leaf like that. I mean, not that I didn’t think you should, I just-“

“It was pretty fast, but Aunt Nell put in a good word for me.” Lana explained. “She and the owner were college roommates.”

“Lucky you.”

Lana laughed, her gaze cast to the floor before she took in the chatter of the shop.

“Yeah, I guess I am pretty lucky.”

In her distracted state, Clark took in Lana. A lot seemed to happen in his week of suspension, something about Lana seemed more reserved than before. Where before she was just quiet, just out of his reach, she now seemed half caught in her thoughts. For a moment, Clark didn’t exist to her. She was a million miles away.

“How is the reading?” Clark asked.

“What?” Lana’s eyes snapped back to Clark, now wide and hyperfocused.

“Uh, those books. When we last… at school?”

“Oh. Oh… It’s… It’s fine.” She said, smiling before shaking her head. “I need to get back to work, okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

With a smile and a nod, Lana went about to check on her tables and pick up empty cups. Clark stayed for a moment as he watched Lana, trying to piece together what it was that looked so different about Lana besides her environment. Then, it clicked. She wasn’t wearing that locket anymore. It had always looked so awkwardly big around her thin neck, but no one dared tell her that. Since they were children at Smallville Elementary, no one had ever seen her without the locket. It was probably her most prized possession, and something about the image of Lana without it made Clark nervous.

Dropping back into his seat beside Pete, Clark dropped the sugar packets and stared down at his coffee. Despite the week of near isolation on the farm, he hadn’t taken the time to contemplate the night with Lana in the cemetery. It was scary to think about, it was scary to admit if his father hadn’t come then, it may have ended worse. But now those thoughts felt like they were flooding Clark’s mind, forcing him to face the way Lana made him feel. How her blood made him feel.

“Hey, earth to Clark Kent.” Chloe waved her hand in front of his face. “What’s wrong? You look like you watched a basket of puppies get run over.”

“Maybe he did. What was that with Lana?” Pete asked.

“Nothing, we were just talking.” Clark said, dumping a couple packets of sugar in his coffee.

“Uh huh?” Chloe leaned on her hand, head lulling to the side. “So, if that’s the case are you going to join our Luthor Inquisition?”

“Chloe, you seriously need to drop this.” He said, giving her a knowing look.

“And you know that seriously isn’t going to happen.” She snapped back.

With a sigh, Clark shook his head. Lex’s offer echoed in his thoughts as he swallowed nervously. That was also something he’d avoided thinking about, if he dared tell Chloe and Pete about his talks with Lex Luthor. Chloe at the least should know, but would she even like the idea of a Luthor getting up in her business? Would she believe it was all above board?

“Okay, which of us got hit over the head this week? You’re spacier than the stoner in my math class.” Chloe said.

“There’s just a lot going on, okay?”

“Is it the kind of a lot you need to talk about?” Pete asked, leaning on the back two legs of his chair. “You know we’re always here to talk.”

“You say to the master of secrets himself.” Chloe laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, that’s not true.” Clark countered.

Pete and Chloe had another of those wordless exchanges as he groaned.

“You know, you two are just as bad sometimes. What’s with that all the time?” He asked.

For another moment, Chloe and Pete looked from Clark to each other and back to him. The three all looked between each other before the first snicker from Pete. In spite of his own frustrations, Clark felt a smile pulling at his lips as he watched them. It was Chloe who ended up breaking first, a snort escaping before she clamped a hand over her mouth. The moment of silence was heavy before the dams broke and the three started giggling. The low laughter was barely controlled before all of a sudden, the three just lost it, devolving together as they looked at each other. For once, Clark didn’t care if they were attracting attention, their bickering out the window as they fell into harder and deeper laughter every time they looked at each other. For the first time in quite a while, things felt normal again.


	12. Chapter 12

It had been nearly a week since Lex had extended his offer to Clark. One week of meetings, reading dossiers, and waiting for him to call or drop out of nowhere like he seemed to enjoy doing. One week that Lex had been reduced to staring at the phone in anticipation of some small town hick to make the next move. The frustration was enough to make Lex race back to that barn and grill Clark on what he was, who he was.

Of course, he was something supernatural, there was no doubt. At first, Lex just assumed he was a local vampire. There were plenty of them around, especially after his own sire had blown through in the 80’s. Of course, Lionel claimed total abstinence from changing anyone in that time, but Lex knew him. That pride lead to many weaknesses. He knew that first hand.

But Clark wasn’t quite that. No, there were records of his growth. School records, a very thin medical record, even adoption papers. He wasn’t like Lex, but he didn’t stink of anything that was quite as strong or resilient as the vampire. No, he was something Lex had never encountered before. Utterly fascinating.

“Mr. Luthor?”

The man Lex had called from Metropolis stood in front of him. His stiff, ill fitted suit hung in all the wrong places, making his neck look far skinnier than it actually was as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Watching him, Lex wondered how many fast food chains could be run on the grease rung from the fools slick hair.

“Yes, Mr. Nixon, where were we?” Lex asked, an affected boredom to his tone.

“You said you had a proposal for me, in exchange for the story I was working on at the Inquisitor,” Nixon said. “The story about your previous, shall we say, youthful mistakes.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Lex sighed, leaning forward in his desk chair as he took in the man before him.

Yes, Roger Nixon was the lowest of the low. Anyone who would work for the Inquisitor was either those with no moral qualms or those with no reputation to tear down, the kind of man Lex could trust with something like this. Someone with no social standing that no one would believe.

“Now, Rog- can I call you Rog?” Lex asked, waving away any complaint as he continued. “Now, Rog, I can assume an average income at the Inquisitor does leave something to be desired. Am I wrong?”

“Well, we can’t all live on trust funds.”

“I’m sure we all can’t.” Lex chuckled. “I understand you could use some moonlighting to settle some debts, I have a job offer for you.”

“Hmm, a cozy job at the beck and call of Lex Luthor, and all it will cost me is my morals and a front page story. That’s a very tempting off, Mr. Luthor.” He said, a sure smile spread across his face.

“Oh, you misunderstand me, Rog.” Lex said, putting an emphasis on the nickname. “I’m not asking. As for your morals, I don’t think I’ll be asking you to do anything worse than you already do. Besides, your story already has some red flags by what most consider journalistic integrity.”

That finally wiped the smile off Nixon’s face.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, you should be.” Lex leaned back in his chair, kicking his feet up on the glass top of his desk. "See, those records you used in your great Luthor take down were sealed. How did you manage to find them?”

“Well, I- It was just…” He stumbled over his words, running a hand over his hair.

“Was it your brother?”

The study was silent but for the crackling of the fire as Roger Nixon stared down the barrel of a gun.

“He works at the Metropolis court house, doesn’t he? Here’s how it looked from my end, feel free to correct me.” Lex said, taking a deep breath. “You smelled out the potential for a take down piece that would go beyond the Inquisitor, maybe even beyond the Planet. You pitched it to your brother. Split the profits if he could get you those records. No one would question it, because the only thing people hate more than the Inquisitor is the Luthor’s.”

Nixon finally dropped into the seat across from Lex, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he struggled to speak.

“So here’s how I see it, you can take my first offer and deal work for me for a while. You’ll still be compensated, it’s only fair. I may be a Luthor, but I am fair.” Lex said, smiling a satisfied grin. “Or I’ll be taking this up with people far above your pay grade. You and your brother will be on the street within a day, but of course you’re always ready for that. Aren’t you?”

The two men watched each other for a moment before Nixon realized the question wasn’t rhetorical and nodded quickly.

“Of course, you are.” Lex chuckled. “Well, that’s why as we speak, you’re disappearing.”

“Disappearing?” Nixon asked, eyes growing wide despite their beady size.

“Credit cards, drivers license, apartment lease, even your social security number.” He brought the tips of his fingers together just in front of his face, letting them all fly apart at once. “Poof, just like that.”

“B-b-bu-but-“

“Oh, you can earn it all back. Think of it as incentive. No one will listen to a man who doesn’t exist.”

For a long time, Nixon’s eyes were cast to the floor in contemplation. It wasn’t a hard decision, he could only agree. What else was there to do? It was more than his own pride on the line, unlike what he’d expected walking into the meeting.

“What do you want?”

The only way to describe the satisfaction on Lex’s face was that of the cat cornering the cannery in it’s own cage. His dinner was in his grasps, but he wanted to have some fun before the dinner bell rang. Dropping his feet from the desk, he grabbed a yellow folder and tossed it over.

Inside was a police report with the yearbook photo of a young blonde woman. Her hair was stuck out in every which way like kids seemed to find so hip, a full tooth smile, and bright blue eyes. Perfectly average in every way.

“Who is she?”

“A friend of a friend.” Lex said. “She was attacked, the police have been useless finding the culprit. I want you to find out who it was.”

“Solve some hick town mystery?” Nixon scoffed, looking up at the piercing eyes locked on him. “I’ll be on it immediately.”

“Good. Go on, then.” Lex said, waving dismissively.

Nixon closed the file, standing and hurrying towards the door.

“Oh, one more thing.” Lex piped up before Nixon could even touch the brass handle. “Clark Kent.”

“Who?” Nixon turned to look at Lex over his shoulder.

“A local.”

“Is he a suspect?”

“No, no, he couldn’t hurt a fly.” Lex chuckled. “Think of it as extra credit.”

With that, Nixon fled the building. He thought he was subtle, keeping a slow pace until he was halls away before breaking into a near sprint out to his car.

Nothing brought Lex quite a rush like terrorizing the cockroaches. He basked in the exultation as he walked over to his personal bar, grabbing a dark bottle and pouring out a glass of the thick, red blood inside. It was always a fun way to work up an appetite.

Even at room temperature, the tang of iron on his tongue satisfied Lex. With his drink in hand, Lex took a seat by the fire and let his mind start to wander. There was little time he could let it go as it wished, but there was little left in his day. The first truly quiet day since arriving in Smallville. It was so tempting to make that surprise visit to Clark’s barn again.

Checking his watch, Lex sighed. It was just shy of midnight. Perhaps Clark was still awake, still up in that silly loft watching the stars, but alas it was a weekday. Lex felt his mood turn dark he his mind drifted to his own senior year, remembering why he never gave himself those quite moments to let the thoughts come and go as they pleased.

Lex shook his head, knocking back the glass he’d been sipping at before throwing the glass in the fire. The dramatic shatter and sputtering of flames didn’t snap Lex back to himself like he’d hoped the small act of destruction would. The sound of teeth grinding echoed through his ears as Lex took deep breaths, his chest burning with the restraint.

Still the middle of the night and with little to distract him, Lex stormed through the halls. His mind said go, leave, find, hunt, bury, and who was he to deny it. As he reached the entrance hall of the manor, one of the sparse night staff hurrying from the coat closet down the hall.

Meeting him at the door was one of the maids, her black button down tucked into a matching skirt and apron tied snuggle around her waist, his jacket and driving gloves in hand. Lex paused as he reached for his things from her, stopping to take in the help for once. She wasn’t much older than him, in her mid twenties with sharp features framed by dirty blonde bangs as the rest of her hair was pulled into a tight bun.

Her eyes were looking anywhere but Lex, so carefully trained to avoid him. As all staff was, don’t bother the master when he’s in a mood. And yet…

“What’s your name?” Lex asked, taking the jacket but not putting it on.

“I’m sorry?” She said, meeting his eyes before looking away quickly. “Um, Samantha, sir.”

Leaning closer, Lex took in the scent emanating off Samantha. Warm blood, pumping quickly under a bouquet of florals and honey. Fresh and clean. So tempting and delicious.

“Are you part of the transfer from Metropolis?” He asked.

“No, sir.” Samantha said, looking up again as she realized how close Lex was. “I came in from Edge city.”

“Really?”

A cool finger ran across Samantha’s throat, eliciting a shiver as blood pumped into her cheeks. Her scent was practically filling Lex as he felt his teeth ache and grow, canines throbbing to plunge into her throat as badly as Lex craved a body close to his own. Lex leaned close, drinking in the scent as he felt the tension melt from his mind.

“Do you want me?” He asked, voice low and graveled with want.

“S-sir?” Her blood began pumping faster, the smell of musk mingling with the meadow in her veins.

“Tell me, do you want me?” Lex asked again, lips hovering at her ear as he traced her collarbone.

“Yes.” She gasped. “Since the moment I saw you.”

The words would have been flattering had Lex not heard them a hundred times before. But all the same, he took Samantha in his arms, pulling her against him as their lips met in a heated kiss. There was a million reasons Lex should have stopped and taken the drive to Metropolis, let himself crash and drown, spend the coming day deep where the morning couldn’t reach until the burning frustration in his chest was gone. Instead, he took Samantha up in his arms, her gasps as he traced kisses down her throat only more encouraging before he carried her to the nearest bedroom and shut the door behind them.


	13. Chapter 13

Somehow, Clark was surprised with the lukewarm return to school. He had expected a target on his back from the football team, but somehow their attention had been drawn away. Word around school was an anonymous benefactor had donated new uniforms and equipment for the sports program. An inkling in the back of Clark’s mind bothered him at the rumor but shook off the worry with his thanks for not being demolished upon return.

He would beat back the eerie feeling as the usual high school procedures were disrupted until it disappeared if he had to. Keeping his head down was Clark’s best option at school. Especially after Randy’s return.

It was in the halls after second period when Chloe tracked Clark down heading to their next class. She bounded after him, slinging an arm around his shoulders as best she could despite their height difference.

“Hey, my hero, you’d better make yourself scarce at lunch. News is spreading quick, Randy wants a rematch.” She said, pulling Clack down a side hall.

“What?”

“Okay, in my class Megan Calder and Jenna Barnum were talking about how her boyfriend, Sean Kelvin, who plays on the football team with the great thick head himself said that Randy wanted a round two with you.” Chloe said all in one breath, taking a gasp before continuing. “And he’d planning on cornering you at lunch, he knows you tend to hang about the Torch office and was staking it out before class when I was using the copy machine. _And_ he keeps saying you’ve had it too easy and need to get knocked down a few pegs.”

Clark blinked for a moment, taking in all the new information before falling back against the wall and taking a deep breath. That relative peace had been nice while it lasted, but this was Smallville, he couldn’t avoid Randy forever.

“I’m sorry, Clark.” Chloe said, squeezing his shoulder. “Listen, we’ll track down Pete before he heads to lunch and head back to my place, okay? I think we’ve earned a skip day.”

“My parents will kill me if I skip.” Clark said, smiling at how stupid it sounded.

“Which would you rather? An extension on your grounding or getting your organs rearranged by a concussed football player forever enraged he peaked in high school?”

The two laughed together before slipping back into the main hall, both keeping an eye peeled for any sudden movements in their direction as they followed the flow of traffic.

Into class and onto lunch, Clark and Chloe travelled separate to draw less attention to one another. Clark’s only goal as to get to the parking lot and let Pete know to find Chloe if they met on the way. Chloe was in active search for their friend but would head straight outside if she didn’t find him in ten minutes.

Clark bobbed and weaved around classmates, hurrying straight through the parking lot as he kept an eye out for Pete’s car. Unsurprisingly, Pete had beat him to it, unlocking the drivers seat before he saw Clark and waved.

“Hey, big guy, I was wondering if you’d be showing your face right now.” He said, chuckling.

“Have you seen Chloe?” Clark asked.

“No, why?”

“With Randy on the hunt, we figured sk-“

“Clark?” Pete said, his sight set just behind his friend, face fallen and full of shock.

Clark turned, following his eyeline to the hulking ginger coming towards them, towing Chloe close behind. The grip on her upper arm was sure to leave a bruise as she followed a step behind, her hair slightly amiss as if she’d been shaken. From head to toe, Randy was red. Under his red letterman jacket, his face and neck were a ghastly shade of a pinky red.

“Hey, Kent!” Randy yelled across the parking lot, yanking Chloe closer behind him. “Hey, we have a score to settle!”

Clark’s heart raced as Randy stopped just feel away, still holding tight to Chloe’s arm. Her face was screwed up in pain as she stood as still as possible, looking far smaller beside him than Clark had ever noticed.

“Chloe has nothing to do with this, let her go.” Clark said, trying to keep his tone controlled and low. “Please.”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Clark met Chloe’s eyes for a moment before she gave a quick nod. Before Randy could react, Chloe brought her knee up to his crotch. Her elbow connected with the back of his head as he doubled over. That hot, meaty hand finally let go of her arm and she ran. Clark raised an arm in front of her as she stopped behind him, taking shuttering breaths and rubbing her tender arm.

Randy was on his knees, his head in his hands as he groaned. He looked almost pathetic now, leaning back against the bumped of a green bug. The three looked between each other before Clark lowered his arm and relaxed.

“Come on, let’s get him to the nurse. I think he’s going to be harmless.” He said, sighing.

“Are you kidding me? He wouldn’t do that much for one of us,” Pete pointed out.

“Clark kind of has a point. I have the bruise to prove self defense.” Chloe said. “You think they’ll suspend me even with my open case?”

“Don’t joke about that, please don’t.”

Clark and Chloe chuckled as they approached the reeling jock. Pete and Clark went on either side and carefully pulled him up by the arms. Most of the weight went on Clark, wrapping one of the thick arms around his shoulder and slowly leading Randy back towards the entrance. Seeing him now, Clark noted how Randy’s face was drained of color, that pinky red turned a sickly pale white.

They made it to the sidewalk in front of the school entrance when Randy pulled off Pete’s shoulders and buried his fist in Clark’s gut. The sudden hit surprised Clark, knocking the air out of his despite the shock being devoid of pain. He doubled over, Randy sliding off him and tumbling to the ground. As the front doors opened, Chloe ran to Clark’s side and bent over to look in his face.

“Shit, Clark! Are you okay?” She helped him over to a raised flowerbed to sit on the edge.

The doors slammed shut as whoever had peeked out ran back, no doubt getting the principal or closes teacher. Clark took a deep breath, finally his bearings but stayed folded over on himself. He drew up his brow in mock pain, taking shallow breaths as Chloe rubbed his back.

“Try and get a deep breath. Come on, breath with me.” She said, kneeling in front of him.

He breathed with her, feeling a bit guilty as he feigned a hitch in his breath. Pete hurried over after making sure Randy wasn’t getting up again, the guy still reeling from Chloe’s hit. He took Clark’s hand, giving him a squeeze as his free hand taking up where Chloe stopped rubbing grounding circles on his back. It wasn’t long before Principal Kwon and the nurse hurried out with several underclassmen. Clark peeked from under his lashes as the nurse attended to Randy, still head in hand as everything spun around him. As he was taken care of, Principal Kwon turned his attention to Clark with fist on hip. He took a deep breath through his teeth and let out a long sigh.

“I shouldn’t be surprised by this, Kent, should I?”

“Before you say anything, sir,” Chloe said, holding her hands up, “Clark didn’t do anything.”

Kwon turned his attention to her, eyes trailing down to the darkening red hand print on her upper arm, hand hidden by her cap sleeve blouse.

“I was the one who hit Randy this time. He was threatening Clark and if he had the idea, he was going to hurt me.” She explained, holding their principal’s gaze without blinking. “He attacked Clark unprovoked.”

After a breath, Kwon let out another long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“My office, we’re going to get this figured out.” He said, waving for the students to follow.

***

By the time he got home, Clark couldn’t bare listening to his own thoughts. The nurse did as much of a once over as possible for a punch in the gut, he just needed to walk off what little effect it had on him. That left him sitting with Chloe, Pete, and the few students who witnessed at least the tail end of Randy’s terror. The questioning had been thorough, but in the end Clark was a free man. This was a mark on Randy’s end, but Clark was still sent home for the ordeal.

As Pete’s car pulled into the driveway, Jonathan walked out the barn. His face was unreadable from that distance. Clark took a deep breath before bumping fists with Pete.

“Good luck, man.” Pete said.

“Call later?” Chloe asked, sliding over the console as Clark got out and claiming his empty seat.

“Yeah, later.” He said, giving them a halfhearted smile.

Clark closed the door on Chloe as she buckled in and watched the car pull away. There was a moment of silence he looked to his father and slowly made his way over.

“School called.” Jonathan said.

“I can explain.”

“They explained plenty.” With a sigh, Jonathan clapped Clark on the shoulder. “You didn’t hit anyone this time, you promise? If Chloe is cover for you-“

“She isn’t, I swear.” Clark pleaded.

Nodding slowly, Jonathan pulled Clark into a hug, patting him squarely on the back. Clark held onto the hug for a moment, finally feeling the anxiety of the day and his fears coming to fruition melt away. As a child, part of Clark feared the safety he felt in his parents’ arms would go away one day. Even still at eighteen, it hadn’t.


	14. Chapter 14

Nothing about the school year had been how Lana ever predicted. Her first couple weeks on the job hadn’t been too bad, but only in how they distracted her from the abject horror she felt when she had to go home at night. Every shadow made her jump, every creak sending a shot of adrenaline through her bloodstream. In the bustling coffee shop, none of it mattered. After her shifts, Lana took up one of the single lounge chairs that lined the window, a small side table set between every two, to do her homework. Some days, she wasn’t even home until the last moments before dinner was on the table.

Despite the strife her new schedule started at home, Lana felt far safer curled up in the old chair with one of her many library books. Tales of specters and ghouls weren’t the most conventional choice to scare away the bad thoughts, but something in them was a modicum of relief. There was always a reason, a purpose, to the hauntings she read of. The crying baby who was drowned by a vengeful mother, a gossamer woman spotted on the roadside after she was murdered and left unfound, the wails of a prisoner unsatisfied in his end. The idea these things had a reason to stay that could be resolved was calming.

It was as she curled up in her seat reading when Lana noticed someone out of the corner of her eye. Looking up, she froze at the sight of Clark Kent across from her.

“Oh, hey.” She said, quickly shoving the book between her thigh and the arm of the chair.

“Hey, I hope I’m not disturbing.” He said.

“Oh, no, I just thought you were someone else.” Lana said, laughing it off. “I’m actually waiting for Whitney to pick me up, we have plans.”

Looking outside, Lana faltered for a moment. The sun was nearly set, her watch saying it was nearly seven already. Whitney was late.

“How’s the book?” Clark asked.

“Hmm?” Lana looked back before looking down at her book. “Oh, it’s… it’s fine.”

“You like ghost stories?”

Pulling the book back out, Lana thought over the question. She chewed at her lip before looking back up at Clark, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, yeah, I do.” She said.

“I don’t read much.” Clark said before he started stammering. “I mean, like, I don’t read a lot of horror and… ghost stories.”

Lana laughed, admiring how Clark tried to clarify.

“What do you read then?” She asked.

“Um, a lot of classics.” He said, mind scanning through their class assignments. “I just read Macbeth.”

“Yeah, I did, too,” Lana said. “We’re in the same English class.”

Red creeped up Clark’s neck and ears, stammering more before finally clearing his throat.

“What do you read outside of class?” She asked.

“Well… honestly, I don’t know what do read outside of school. Do you have some recommendations?”

Had it not been for the door opening just over Clark’s shoulders, Lana may have been impressed with how smoothly he had conducted himself at her retort. Instead, she was quickly pulled to watch the large figure of Whitney entering the coffee shop. Even three years in, Lana still felt a buzzing in her chest when she saw him. It was a tightness and excitement that made her want to disappear and watch him a few extra moments from afar. His tall, large form and boyishly handsome features were perfect by many standards. The all-American southern boy, clad in his red letterman and scanning the shop with shaggy, blond hair falling in his eyes. As soon as those baby blue’s fell on Lana, her stomach clenched and turned in on itself like it always did. That quiet excitement never did die.

“Hey, Whitney!” Lana called, smiling as she waved him over.

“There you are.”

Whitney strode over in a few long stride before leaning down to steal a kiss. He kneeled down beside her, looking over Clark from the corner of his eye. Clark scooted down in his seat a bit, his attention drifting away politely.

“Hey, I know we had plans-“

“Yeah, I’m so excited to finally have some quality time.” Lana said, her fingers fidgeting around her cuticles.

“Yeah, about that…” Whitney trailed off, his eyes drifting back to Clark for a moment. “My buddy got tickets to tomorrow’s game and his dad paid for us to go stay in Metropolis. You know, a guys weekend.”

“Whitney… That’s really last minute.” She said, her shoulders slumping.

The front door bell jingled in the background, drawing Clark’s eye from the couple. He felt so uncomfortable now stuck beside the pair. Looking to the door, he froze. In the time he and Lana had been chatting, the sun had finally gone down. In the halo of warm light at the entrance was Lex Luthor, pulling leather gloves off and stuffing them in the deep pocket of his long jacket.

He strolled up to the front, chatted with the cashier for a moment, before handing her a card. Clark took the opportunity to flee, leaving the window seat as quietly as he could and strolling up beside Lex.

“Hey,” he said.

Lex looked over as he slid the card back into his wallet, pocketing it as a smile spread over his face.

“Hey, Clark.” Lex reached out a hand to Clark.

Taking his hand to shake, Clark was shocked at the cool firmness of it again. Lex gave him a squeeze, putting real pressure on him as he shook. Letting go, he flexed his own hand and looked over Lex curiously.

“So, you never got back about your friend.”

“My friend?”

“Yeah, the one you were questioning me about.” Lex chuckled. “Say the word and we’ll have the best private investigator money can buy on the case.”

“Honestly, I don’t think Chloe would really be interested…” Clark said, trailing off.

“Have you talked to her about what she’s interested in?”

The two watched each other for a moment, mutually parsing out the other’s reaction. Clark couldn’t figure out if he was being challenged or if he was projecting his own worried onto Lex. Part of him wanted to lean into the general mistrust of the Luthor’s the town went by since the fertilizer plant was raised all those years ago, the mistrust he had been raised in. But after talking to Lex one of one so many times, part of Clark resisted that blind mistrust.

“I do think it’s a good idea, personally.” Clark admitted. “The sheriff can only do so much, anyways.”

“Small towns tend to make old timers overlook what’s right in front of them.” Lex said, smiling as the barista slid a to-go cup across the counter.

“Coffee this late?” Clark asked, watching Lex take the cup tentatively by the lid.

“We fly in personal chef’s yet no one on staff can make a decent cup.” He lamented, chuckling. “What can I say, no rest for the wicked.”

And with that, Lex brought the cup to his lips and took a sip.

“Well, it was nice talking to you again, but I don’t want to hold you up. It looks like your friend is free.” He said, motioning with the cup towards Lana. “You should ask her out.”

“What?” Clark’s head whipped back from watching Lana, eyes wide.

“Sorry if that’s too forward, but I know that look.” He said, grey eyes trained on Clark. “You should do it.”

“Well, I just… I’m not…” He stumbled over his words for a moment before nodding to Lex, giving a small wave. “It was good talking to you.”

“See you later, Clark.”

As Clark hurried back to his seat, he heard the door jingle open and closed again. He peeked out the window behind them, watching Lex walk to his car parked on the curb. For a moment, he studied Lex. Something was off. It wasn’t until Lex unlocked his car and got in that Clark noticed his coffee was gone.

“Clark?”

Suddenly, he snapped to attention again, turning to look at Lana.

“Yeah?”

“Were you just talking to Lex Luthor?” She asked, eyes flicking between him and Lex out the window.

“Oh, uh… yeah.” Clark said, sitting up a little straighter.

“How do you know him?”

“We just… ran into each other.” He cleared his throat, crossing his legs. “It’s Smallville, after all.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve seen him in town.”

“Well, it’s rare, for sure.” Clark took a deep breath as Lana’s attention was still on the car pulling away outside, Lex’s words playing in the back of his mind. “Hey, Lana?”

“Yeah?” She looked back to him, smiling.

“Do you want to go out?”

Lana watched him for a moment, her face still as she thought.

“I mean, as friends. Like, do you want to hang out?” He clarified. “You know, if you want some company tomorrow.”

“Hang out?” She asked, nodding slowly. “Okay, sure. That sounds like fun. It’s a date.”

Clark’s ears perked up as Lana smiled, picking up her bag from the back of the chair.

“I’d better go call Aunt Nell since my ride’s heading to Metropolis.” She said, standing as she tucked the book under her arm.

“Yeah, um, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Lana nodded, giving Clark a little wave before she walked to the Employee’s Only entrance and disappeared behind it. There was a moment of silence as it all settled. Then, it all clicked at once. Clark was hanging out with Lana tomorrow, she said it was a date, but of course she would never mean that literally. Would she? It almost didn’t matter to him if she did or not, they would actually be hanging out one on one outside of school or running into each other at the Beanery.

Before Lana could come out and catch him in a daze, Clark shook himself from his thoughts and hopped up. Heading out into the crisp night air, Clark stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, humming to himself the whole way down the main street. He passed the old movie theater before the grocers and went on another five minutes. After making it just outside of the lights of the town, Clark peeked over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking and sped off down the farm roads with a bounce in his step.


	15. Chapter 15

Bright, late morning sun shone across the farm as Clark walked out of the barn. He’d been finishing up his chores for the day when he heard the sound of a car pulling up the driveway. Instead of his dad pulling back in, Clark watched a little red car park. Before he could get out a hello, Chloe got out and stormed up to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were talking to Lex Luthor?” She asked.

“Wait, Chloe, how did you know about that?”

“So you admit you were hiding it?”

Clark took a deep breath, pulling off his work gloves and stuffing them in his back pocket.

“Did Lana tell you?” He asked.

“Oh my _god,_ Clark! Yes! Lana told me she saw you and Lex getting cozy at the Beanery!” Chloe snapped.

“Hey, wait, we were just talking.” Clark said.

“Whatever, that doesn’t change the fact of the matter!”

“Are you mad I didn’t tell you or are you mad I talked to him before you?” He asked.

“Clark, this looks suspicious. How could you get so buddy buddy with him when me looking into him is what put me in the hospital?” She said.

“Chloe, you were also looking into a sixteen year old cold case, there’s probably a number of people who don’t want that looked into.”

Clark sighed, looking over at the house and where his parents were. He motioned for Chloe to follow into the barn, leaning against a post by the stairs.

“Clark, why are you defending him?” Chloe asked point blank.

“I don’t know, we don’t know each other as well as you think we do. We just met, we’ve only talked a couple times.”

“What do you talk about?” She asked, laying a hand on the banister.

Clark stayed quiet for a beat, debating if he should really tell her the truth or not. But with Lex’s offer, she deserved to know. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Clark looked up to Chloe and stumbled over his words for a moment.

“Lex offered to hire an investigator to help find whoever assaulted you,” he said.

“Why would Lex Luthor offer that to you? To me?”

Chloe’s face was blank with shock, the hand holding the banister gone white knuckled.

“He just wanted to repay a favor.”

“ _What_ favor? How did he owe you a favor, Clark?” She asked. “How did you two meet, exactly?”

“Chloe, please calm down. He’s not really as bad as everyone thinks,” Clark said.

“Why are you so quick to defend him when you’ve known him for… I don’t know how long, but sure as hell not that long?” Chloe finally released the banister, taking a deep breath. “Clark, I’m just so confused about all of this. Please, I need to know.”

“I don’t know… I don’t know why I trust him.” Clark admitted. “I don’t know what it is, he just… he hadn’t given me any reason not to. Lex wants to help because he knows he’s the prime suspect as far as the town is concerned. I don’t think it’s fair he’s the first person you’d suspect of wanting to cover up his own kidnapping, if you are right.”

“Stockholm syndrome, Clark!” Chloe snapped before taking a deep breath.

She walked away a few paces, hands on her hips as she took a deep breath. The barn was quiet as the two friends took a moment to collect themselves before Chloe finally turned around and walked back. She met Clark’s gaze and took another deep breath.

“Will you at least tell me how you met him?” She asked. “No story, I won’t quote you, just tell me friend to friend. Please.”

“We just ran into each other around town and started talking. I didn’t realize who he was until long after.” Clark said, trying to bend the truth as well as he could.

Chloe took a deep breath, nodding slowly as he lips stretched into a tight, thin line.

“Okay, okay…” She said, letting out a strong breath. “I’ll see you at school.” She said, raising a hand in goodbye before turning sharply on her heels and hurrying out the barn.

Clark couldn’t tell if she truly bought it, or if this was the beginning of a long, uphill battle. Leaning against the beam behind him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours, but that’s where Clark stayed until he heard his father’s truck pulling up to the barn door. Chloe’s words swirled in his head along with Lex’s, trying to parse out why exactly he found himself trusting him. Of course, just the gut feeling they were alike was a big thing but didn’t mean Lex couldn’t be the worst creature on this earth. It was something from how openly Lex came to him, Clark thought. They’d played phone tag with each other, and for some reason couldn’t help but answering, Lex even hanging out in his loft like he was in the strangest, sweetest dream.

As soon as Clark heard the truck backing up to the door, he pushed off the beam and shook the thoughts away, donning his work gloves again before walking up to the back. In the bed of the truck was a new load of hay bails, which Clark reaching in and grabbed one in each hand.

“Hey, son.” Jonathan said as he walked around the back of the truck, reaching in and grabbing one with both hands.

“Hey,” Clark replied.

They two dropped the hay bails all beside each other against the back wall before heading back to the truck. As they unloaded, Clark taking bails out two or three at a time, Jonathan seemed far quieter than Clark was used to his father being. It wasn’t until the last bail was staked that Jonathan leaned against their work and gave Clark the look he’d forever know as the We Need To Talk look.

“What is it?” He asked, pulling off his gloves and stuffing them back in his pocket.

“You and Lana are going out tonight, aren’t you?” Jonathan asked.

Clark took a deep breath, eyes cast to the floor as he kicked some space hay out from under his work boot.

“We’re just hanging out, as friends.”

“Like you were at the cemetery?”

Their eyes met for a moment as Clark gapped for a moment.

“We just ran into each other, we didn’t-“

“I know, but that doesn’t change what happened.” He said, pinning Clark with that fatherly concern. “We’ve always known how you feel about Lana, but we really need to think about this. Especially with how you’re…”

“With how I want to eat my classmates?” Clark pressed, watching the strange mix of emotions behind Jonathan’s eyes.

“What if Lana cuts herself again?” He asked. “What if this time, someone isn’t there to interfere and you can’t control yourself.”

“Dad, I-“

“I know you are a capable and strong person, Clark. But accidents happen.” He said, pushing off the hay bails and standing eye to eye with his son. “The night we found you, your mother and I got in a car accident, flipped right off the road. I had never gotten in a car accident before that day, but it happened. I’m not saying you can’t control yourself normally, we trust you.”

Clark took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“I… Dad, it’s not just then when I almost…” Clark took a deep breath, the last month and a half still weighing on his shoulders. “If I’m being honest? This… thirst has been getting worse. Even when Lana’s not bleeding, something it gets so overwhelming it hurts. And not just Lana, Chloe and Pete, too.”

Jonathan took Clark by the shoulders, making him meet his gaze and giving him as good a smile as he could muster.

“We’ll get through it together. We’ll figure this out together.” He said. “Your mother and I are always going to be here for you.”

“Thank you…” Clark muttered.

“You don’t have to thank anything, we’re your parents. We’re supposed to be here for you.” Jonathan smiled as he pulled Clark into a hug, squeezing him as he began to feel a little normal again.

***

Sitting in the loft, Clark still tried to script out what he was going to tell Lana in his head. It felt terrible having extended a show of friendship to her, only to take it away at the last minute, yet he still struggled into the afternoon and evening. It was nearly time to meet her when he heard a car driving down the road.

Clark walked over to his telescope at the open window and followed the silver truck into the next property over, pulling up to Lana’s front porch. Out hopped Whitney, of all people. Clark felt his stomach clench at the sight of him, watching as Lana came out the front door. She looked different than usual, clad in a long sleeve dress instead of her usual jeans and blouse. Clark’s heart skipped a beat at the idea she’d worn that for him, but felt it sink as Whitney walked up to the bottom of the porch stairs. He reached out a hand to her as he spoke before she took it, saying something in reply. Clark wished he could hear them from there, watching with a heavy heart as she lead Whitney up the porch and inside.

Clark stood wordlessly from his telescope, taking a shaky breath. At least it was no longer on him to cancel their plans, he tried to think positively. Moments later, he could hear the side door open and his mother calling out.

“Clark, phone call for you!”

“I’ll be there in a sec, Ma!” He called back, eyes still lingering on the Lang household.

With a sigh, Clark turned off the string lights hung around the loft and closed up the window for the night. He walked inside, taking the phone from his mother as she waiting in the living room.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Clark,” Lana said. “I’m so sorry, but I really need to rain check on tonight.”

“Is everything okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s just… something important came up.”

His heart tugged at Lana’s words, but he couldn’t deny it. Whitney wasn’t her boyfriend, they were just hanging out as friends. He had no real stake in that game.

“Oh, okay… yeah, no, that’s totally fine.” He said, trying to project a casual togetherness.

“Okay, well… I’ll see you at school.”

“Yeah, see you there.” Clark said, clicking off the landline.


	16. Chapter 16

There was palpable apprehension as Roger Nixon walked down the halls of Luthor Manor. There was no real saying how his evening was about to turn, carrying what information he had pulled in his primarily investigation of Clark Kent. For all he knew, Lex already knew everything he had. Considering how thin the kid’s medical records were, there was a good chance what he found was less than Lex’s expectations.

He would find out shortly, Nixon figured as he pushed open the doors of the library. Just as last time, Lex was perched in his office chair behind the large, modern desk, leaning his chin so casually against his hand as he appeared to be lost in thought. He paid no mind to Nixon as he approached, clearing his throat as he took a seat in one of the leather chairs before the desk.

Lex finally looked at Nixon, eyes going over him in one foul swoop before he sat up straight and leaned over his desk.

“Hey there, Rog.” He said, that rehearsed smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“You wanted a weekly update. It’s not much right now, but…” Nixon said, holding out the thin file. “The sheriff’s office may be right this time, there’s no real leads on who went after that girl. The security tapes didn’t show anyone else in the school with Miss Sullivan, but also you could barely see her on they were so low quality.”

“And our other point of interest?” Lex asked, flipping through the file.

“Everything’s right there. School records, medical records, never gotten in trouble with the sheriff or gotten a ticket before. This Kent kid is squeaky clean.” Nixon explained. “I have no idea what you were expecting, but I’m not sure it’s there.”

The room was near silent as Lex went over the file meticulously, rereading every page. After turning on over, he took a steady breath and began on the next. It was almost annoying as Nixon sat there and waited. Finally, Lex closed the file, holding it back out to him.

“I knew you were low-grade, but I didn’t realize that you were an ineffectual idiot.” He said, each word purposeful and dripping in contempt. “You don’t think I’ve already gone over public records? You worked much harder when public recognition was on the table.”

“We all have our motivations.” Nixon admitted. “But I think there is something you may have overlooked.”

“Oh really?”

“His adoption records.”

With a sigh, Lex flipped open the file again and sifted through the papers. Pulling out the bundle of legal papers, he skimmed over the lines and signatures again before looking back at Nixon, brows raised.

“What am I supposed to be seeing?” He asked.

“His adoption was done through Metropolis United Charities.”

“Is that supposed to ring any bells?”

Nixon chuckled, leaning his elbows against his knees as he smiled.

“It should, it was a short lived project of Daddy Dearest’s.”

Lex’s brow fell as the information processed. He couldn’t say he remembered the organization, but considering how much he could remember when he was a kid it wasn’t a surprise. The pages didn’t seem out of the usual for an adoption, everything just as his own. The thought made Lex freeze, the intense stillness of his own body unnerving as he expected blood to be thundering in his ears.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, it was only up and running for six months back in 1989. Only two adoptions ran through that charity.” Nixon said, holding up two fingers and wiggling them. “I think you can figure it out from there.”

Lex looked over each page so thoroughly before closing the file and tossing it across the desk. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of his face as he thought. There was a good minute of silence before Lex finally took a deep breath and looked at the reporter again.

“Next time, if all you bring me in shit I’ve already read, our deal is null and void.” He said, staring through Nixon. “I want to know what makes this guy tick, I want to know what he’s hiding.”

“He’s a farm kid, I don’t think he’s the one hiding anything.” Nixon said, grabbing his file. “Why not go after the parent? They’re obviously hiding more than you’re giving them credit for.”

“I don’t care about some hick farmers, I want _him._ ” Lex growled, leaning across the desk. “I _need_ to know what Clark Kent is hiding.”

“Why are you so obsessed with him anyways? You’ve got so much money and power, why don’t you just pay him to tell you?”

“Trust me, I tried.” Lex chuckled.

Finally, he stood and walked around the desk to the reporter. He wrenched the greasy man up by one arm, fingers digging into his soft flesh. Nixon let out a yelp as he was pulled up and dragged out of the library. Most of the way turning and running down the halls, Nixon was tripping over himself to keep up with Lex, who seemed unphased as he walked with such purpose. Fear crawled up Roger’s throat as the possibilities played out in his head. This was a rich dick who’d already threatened to make him disappear, but now he was really going to do it. Why did he always have to stick his nose in such terrible places, this one ending him in a ditch no doubt.

It wasn’t until they turned down a short hall and a door was opened on a dark room. He was so sure that was the end as he was thrown in. There was an unexpected set of stairs leading down, Nixon falling down the few steps and spilling out onto the floor. Looking up, at the center of the dark room was a single light shining on the mangled form of a car. It had been nice once, a silver model of Porsche or something equally expensive. The front was crushed in on itself as the drivers side door was completely missing.

“This!” Lex shouted, walking down the several stairs and walking around the car. “This is why I need to know everything about that kid! He pulled me out of the river, I need to know how.”

“Pulling someone out of a river isn’t that impressive, you know.” Nixon groaned, sitting himself up.

“Maybe not to you, but I think pulling someone out of the river after being hit at almost eighty miles per hour is _extremely_ impressive.” Lex seethed, kneeling over the reporter. “I need to know how this kid survived, and you’re going to find me the information I want.”

“Or?” Nixon asked, prodding at Lex despite his better judgement.

“Pray you find what I need.”

***

If finding out what that Kent kid was capable of was the goal of all this, Luthor should have told Roger sooner. He wasn’t a mind reader, how what he supposed to know this kind was some kind of strongman or superhuman. Roger scoffed at the idea, shaking his head. That Luthor kid didn’t know what he was talking about. He drove off a bridge, for Christ’s sake, how would he know if he actually hit the kid or not. It was all that rich kid pride, Lex couldn’t accept his delirious post crash reality wasn’t true.

As far as Roger was concerned, the kid was totally normal. Trailing him in the open, Kansas fields around the Kent farm was almost impossible, but what he did catch through the week was completely normal. From Monday morning to Monday afternoon, the kid was in school. No way to keep an eye on him from the inside, so Roger waited a block away in his car. At lunch, he tailed the seniors to the parking lot they congregated in. Then, after three, he followed Clark back to Kent farms and stayed at the edge of the property to watch through binoculars as Clark did his chores.

The kid was barely out for a farm boy, seeming to confine himself to the barn or the house, which Roger couldn’t blame him for. The amount of wind kicking up dust clouds around the far was surprising. Opening his car window, he couldn’t feel the slightest breeze. The farm must have been in a terrible spot to deal with localized winds.

When the sun started going down, Roger packed it up and went home. It was the same procedure day in and day out, only confirming more as the days went on that they were dealing with a perfectly ordinary kid. Even when Clark change it up part way through the week and went out with friends to the local coffee shop, Roger couldn’t pin anything strange on him.

Sat in the back of the Beanery, he nursed a cup of black coffee, skimming over a copy of the Planet when he wasn’t watching the trio of kids. Of course, Clark was with his little girlfriend he was also supposed to be investigating. Her spirit certainly didn’t seem dampened by what she went through, carrying around a bulging binder the two boys always seemed sheepish around when she would reference something inside.

Roger made a mental note to look into that cold case she was so fascinated by.

At the end of the night, he paid his bill to the lovely young woman at the counter and waited in his car for Clark and his merry band to leave. The monotony of stalking a high schooler was getting to Roger.

It was Thursday morning when Roger sat at the edge of the Kent property, watching for Clark as he sipped at his to-go cup of coffee. That Beanery wouldn’t be open much longer if Smallville had the misfortune of a better chain moving in, the bitter coffee on his tongue making him almost regret tangling with the Luthor’s.

The sudden tap-tap on the roof of his old car made Roger jump, one hand automatically going to the lid of his coffee to save it from spilling.

“Hey there, mister.” A gruff voice said.

Turning, Roger saw Mr. Kent looking through his open window, one hand casually on the roof of his car. From afar, Mr. Kent looked far younger than he did up close, the stress lines of farm life etched into his forehead and eyes. His soft, blond hair had yet to go grey, but there was already speckles of it in the stubble of his beard.

“Hey there,” Roger said.

“Any reason you’ve been out here for the better part of a week?” Mr. Kent asked.

“Well, I’m just on my commute.” Roger said, lying through his teeth. “I just happen to need a minute to get some fine, Smallville coffee pumping through me before I run myself off the road tired.”

Mr. Kent seemed to find this entertaining, chuckling to himself as Roger took a sip of his coffee.

“Is that why you’re always out here when our boy gets home?” He asked. “Just… sleeping your day off?”

Roger’s jaw set tight as he watched Mr. Kent closely, an edge to his words making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

“I don’t care who sent you or who’s paying you, you leave Clark alone or you’ll have the sheriff up your ass,” he said.

“Let me guess, you and he are old fishing buddies?” Roger asked, chuckling.

“Cute, real cute.” Mr. Kent reached through the window and squeezed Roger’s shoulder a little too tight for comfort. “Make yourself scarce, why don’t you?”

With a polite smile and nod, Roger started his car and slowly pulled away. He watched Mr. Kent in the rearview mirror, eyes focused and pointed on the stoic figure watching him until he was just a blip in the horizon. Of course, he’d been spotted eventually, but it was the readiness of Mr. Kent’s threats that made something in Roger curious. Usually, a good get lost was people’s first response to finding him hanging around. Most people didn’t want to get wrapped up with police and the red tape of getting him out of their hair.

“Okay, Clark Kent, what are you hiding?”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, btw I made a playlist for this fic!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2tvjIduWq31zYcvm4xJE5E?si=ONwsBF6FTv66YRMIo6qGAw  
> Enjoy

How things still got worse, Clark wasn’t sure. From normal school year with the usual struggles coming of age to one of his best friends barely speaking to him and the girl he was still pining making it perfectly clear who she really cared about, Clark felt the weight of every change heavy on his shoulders. Even his parents had turned quieter, sharing glances when they thought he wouldn’t notice. He just wanted that excitement for it all he’d felt on the first day again.

The pressure weight down on Clark turned him into a snail as he did his chores that Friday evening. In the end, he still finished faster than he meant to, spending the last few hours before dinner wandering around the grazing pasture as the cows did their thing. It was calm, Clark always loved spending his time in the pasture.

As a kid, it had broken his heart when he found out what was going to happen to the cows in the end. Jonathan had to take him on his knee and explain that’s what farming was, that was the circle of life. Of course, Clark had abstained from beef for months after, until he really started to understand what his father was saying.

Clark still enjoyed the company the cows provided, their own personalities coming out after he spent enough time with one. His favorite at the moment was one of the milk cows he watched graze with her calf, a beautiful Jersey cow with a mahogany pelt. Her calf was the same color with a white splotch on his snout. Even Martha was sweet on that milk cow, calling her Shelby after her childhood dog she reminded her of.

The calf was unfortunately destined to be slaughtered and processed for meat, the precise reason Jonathan opposed the naming of it. But still, behind his father’s back, Clark and Martha had started calling the little rascal Skip. The playful bugger had won over their hearts when out milking Shelby. Sometimes, Clark wondered if Jonathan had his own nickname for the calf who would always lay his head on the knee of whoever milked his mother, waiting for his own turn to suckle.

Now, little Skip was grazing with his mother, sometimes giving Clark a bump on the leg if he was standing in a particularly yummy looking patch of grass. Clark would obey and continue his own wandering to let Skip continue grazing. Eventually, he took a seat on a small hill in the pasture and started plucking at some wild flowers.

“Hey there.” A smooth voice called from behind Clark.

He shot up, turning around to see a man close to his father’s age strolling up. He was dressed far nicer than anyone who’d usually drop in on a farm, but far worse than Clark’s last surprise visitor. His accent was clearly city, drawing out the vowels in his words. The man’s hair was slicked back and shining in the afternoon sun, hands stuffed in his baggy suit pants.

“This is private property.” Clark barked.

“Oh, I know. But I needed to talk to you, young man.” He said, holding out one hand to Clark.

Clark didn’t shake it, instead looking between it and the man’s face.

“Well, I don’t know what I expected, you were raised on a farm.” He chuckled. “Anyways, my name is Roger Nixon, I’m with the Inquisitor. I’d like to ask you a few questions about your friend Chloe Sullivan’s accident.”

“It wasn’t an accident.” Clark said, his chest puffed out as he sized up Nixon.

“Of course, of course. I just wanted to know your side of it all. I’m writing about this small town scandal, getting the first hand account of those closest to the tragedy.” Nixon smiled a toothy smile that only made Clark feel more uneasy.

“I wasn’t there that night, if that’s what you’re after.” He said.

“Oh I already knew that, you’re friends with Miss Sullivan, though.”

“Listen, I’m not interested, okay?” Clark started to turn from the reporter, walking towards the house.

“Oh, it’s just a few questions, I promise.” Nixon insisted, following behind Clark. “You ever notice anything strange and unusual around these parts?”

“It’s a small town, if there was something strange and unusual going on it would be the talk of the town.”

“Like the strange and unusual cold case she was investigating?” He asked, finally catching up with Clark’s large strides and jogging beside him. “Or maybe where you turned up from?”

Clark froze in place, watching as Nixon walked around him to stare up into his face.

“You just popped up out of nowhere sixteen years ago, can you explain that?”

“What are you really here about?” Clark asked.

“Like I said, just trying to write a story on the tragedy.” Nixon said, sizing up Clark for a moment.

“I think you should go, Mr. Nixon.” Clark said, taking a step closer and towering over the man by a good head.

“Or what? You’ll feed me to the cows?” Nixon chuckled to himself, stepping back from Clark finally. “Have a good night, son.”

And finally, Roger Nixon turned and started walking back the other direction. Clark stood and watched until he made it to the end of the property and climbed over the fence, making it to a car just at the edge of the road. As soon as he got in and drove off, Clark zoomed through the field and into back of the house.

In the kitchen, Martha had a spread of fresh root vegetables from the garden she was washing and peeling in the sink as his father took up the kitchen table with paperwork and forms. He was tapping at an old calculator and scribbling into a notebook as he looked up and froze.

“What happened?” He asked, pulling the reading glasses off his nose.

Martha stopped what she was doing, looking over at Clark at the back door.

“Sweetie?”

“Something weird just happened.” Clark said, letting the back door close behind him. “There was some guy from the Inquisitor asking about Chloe, but…”

“Was he greasy looking, cheap suit?” Jonathan asked, pushing back from the table and walking over.

“Yeah… how did you know?”

Martha and Jonathan shared a look, hours of conversation seeming to happen in an instant before they turned their attention back to Clark.

“This guy was hanging out around the farm for most of the week.” Jonathan sighed. “I didn’t say anything because we didn’t want to worry you.”

“A week?” Clark asked, looking between his parents. “Why would this guy be hanging out here for a week?”

“Clark… There’s a good chance he’s working for the Luthor’s.”

“Why are you so worried about Lex?” Clark asked, his mind quickly rejecting the idea.

“Since when were you two on a first name basis?” Jonathan asked, obviously taken aback.

“It just…” Clark faltered a moment as his mind whirred for an excuse.

“Clark, you need to understand we’re just looking out for you.” Martha interjected. “The Luthor’s are powerful people and we don’t want you getting mixed up with them.”

“How can you be so sure this reporter is working for the Luthor’s? He’s looking into Chloe’s attack, that’s what he was questioning me about. Chloe was investigating a connection between that kidnapping back in 1989 and Lex’s adoption.”

“Clark, you need to stay out of this.” Jonathan said, his tone turning stern like when Clark would get in trouble as a kid.

Clark was walking on thin ice.

“You really think he’s dangerous or something?” He asked, taken aback.

“Not dangerous,” Martha said. “Just…”

“No, I get it.”

Clark sighed, shirking off his jacket and walking towards the stairs.

“Fine, you win, I’ll leave the Luthor’s alone.”

They all knew it wasn’t really over, Clark’s tone clearly telling them we just wanted the conversation over. He went into his room, letting the door close and listening for anyone following. Part of Clark wanted to march back over to the Luthor manor and confront Lex about it. Despite his own thoughts, part of him knew his parents weren’t ones to lie just to get him to drop something, even if they seemed to have the same prejudice against the Luthor family as the rest of the town. Clark just wanted to hear it from Lex’s mouth.

Looking out the large window over looking the horizon, Clark watched as the sky slowly turned pink in the evening light. Something prodded him in the back of his head, remembering his other times meeting Lex. The first time hadn’t felt so significant, meeting him on a dark evening after the world had gone to sleep. It wasn’t until he calls and visits went unheard that Clark started to feel strange, remembering how Lex had almost manifested at the loft as soon as the sun set on Smallville.

Walking over to his desk, Clark picked up the football phone he’d gotten on his thirteenth birthday and pulled a sticky note out of his desk. He typed in the number, listening to the ringing for a long minute before it finally picked up.

“Luthor residence, how may I help you?” An unfamiliar man’s voice asked.

“Hi, is… is Lex available?” Clark asked.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Luthor isn’t here at the moment. Can I take a message?”

“No… No, it’s fine.” He said, quickly hanging up.

Sunset crept closer as Clark watched the sky outside turn violet and peach. When his mother called him down for dinner, he came and ate obediently. Even Martha and Jonathan seemed to agree on dropping their conversation where it was, keeping dinner topics light and easy as Clark sipped a large glass of coconut water. Clark side stepped questions about his senior project, remembering the untouched proposal form in his stack of homework. He would talk to Chloe about that eventually.

After helping put away leftovers and was dishes, he was back up in his room and working at that stack of homework as the hours ticked by. It was nearly ten when he finally heard the television downstairs click off. An hour later, the house was silent but for his father’s snores down the hall.

Clark grabbed his jacket and slowly opened the window, balancing on the precarious ledge outside. It was barely a ledge at that, a two inch ridge around the roof he balanced on as he slowly closed the window from the outside. As soon as it was shut, Clark looked behind him and took a deep breath.

He was either about to do something very impressive, even for his abilities, or very stupid. With a prayer, Clark pushed off the ridge and went sailing through the air. His stomach did tumbles as he soared from the house, landing on his shoulder and rolling with he momentum until he was flat on his back in the lawn. There was a moment that Clark just laid there, listening, waiting, trying to feel about himself that everything was in place. He had always been able to be more reckless than the other kids, but pulling something like that had sent Pete to the medical clinic with a broken arm.

Once Clark was satisfied he was safe, he pulled himself up and rushed off down the road. He made it to the manor in moments, the usually sealed gates open and welcoming. No one escorted him to Lex that time, a new woman in uniform simply telling Clark where to find him. Just as last time, Lex was waiting patiently in the library turned study.

Outside the double door, Clark took a moment to breath and collect his thoughts. If he didn’t find out what was so different about Lex, what he was and if they were anything alike, Clark knew this would be the end. Despite his own curiosities, he wasn’t interested in being yanked around. Finally, hand wrapped around the knob, he turned it and pushed forward into the fire lit room.


	18. Chapter 18

The library was warmly lit by the fire crackling away, illuminating Lex as he stood in front of the hearth. Harsh shadows were cast over half his face as he turned to look at Clark, knowing smile on his lips as their eyes met.

“Hello, Clark.” He said. “I figured it was you that called. Once again, a master of brevity, you didn’t even leave a name.”

Clark kept quiet as he walked further into the library, eyes scanning over the stained glass fixture behind Lex’s desk. When they finally landed on Lex, he was sitting on one of the leather couches set up in front of the fireplace. He motioned to the couch across from him for Clark to sit. Instead, he continued to pace around the room, taking in the knick-knacks and old tomes that filled the shelves on the first level of the library. It was more a show floor, flaunting artifacts or expensive toys. Clark took a deep breath before finally turning to Lex, suddenly feeling like an animal under observation as he paced around.

“There’s been a reporter around the farm.” He said, finally taking the seat across from Lex.

“What did they want?” Lex asked.

“He was asking about Chloe, about her accident,” Clark said. “Also if I just knew if anything strange had been happening in Smallville.”

“And you told him?”

“Is this a test?” He snapped, not breaking eye contact from Lex.

“Why would this be a test?”

“I refused the car, haven’t gotten back to you about your offer to solve my best friend’s assault. I have a feeling you’re worried I’d sell your story to a paper.”

Lex laughed, leaning his head against his hand as he lounged against the arm of the couch. Those grey eyes took Clark in, almost analyzing him as he spoke.

“I’m not surprised you think that.”

“My parents think he’s one of your guys, too.” Clark admitted.

“Your parents must be very protective.” Lex said, quirking a brow.

A moment of silence passed before Lex focused himself on Clark’s healed hand.

“You seem just as resilient, if I’m being honest.” Lex mused, crossing his legs as he hummed. “You swim team?”

“No.”

“Could have fooled me, if you really dove in after me.”

The phrasing of Lex’s statement made Clark’s stomach clench. They were watching each other so closely, ready for the other to stumble in their tango of half truths and avoidance. Clark wasn’t about to let himself fall for the jabs, pulling his hand from the fire light as Lex kept studying the smooth, unblemished knuckles he’d previously bloodied on a jock’s jaw.

“How are things going with that kid?” Lex asked.

“Fine.” He said. “How have you been feeling since the crash?”

“Fine.”

Clark’s jaw clenched at the avoidant answer. It was a circle they were swirling in around each other, around what they both saw but refused to acknowledge about each other. He huffed, rolling his eyes as he stood.

“I think coming here may have been a mistake,” he said. “Goodbye, Lex.”

“Clark…” Lex sighed.

It was useless at that point, trying to play with Clark like he was on a string and would just snap back to Lex. No, that wasn’t something Clark would let him get away with. He was so focused on the double doors, just feet away when Lex decided to throw caution to the wind. One moment, he was in front of the fire and watching Clark’s retreat. The next, he blocked the set of double doors and stood toe to toe with he larger man.

“You know, you’re about as stubborn as they come.” He said, driving a wide eyed Clark back into the library.

“Y-you… I was right.” Clark gasped.

“Let me guess, I’m not too far off either, am I?”

“I suspected from that night, after you just walked away from it all.” Clark said, stumbling back as Lex stood so casually before him. “I thought maybe you were like me, that there were others. That I wasn’t…”

“Alone?” Lex asked, guiding Clark back onto the couch as shock overtook him. “I do have to ask, how have you maintained such a normal life since you were changed? First time I’ve met another vampire that could go out in the day.”

“Changed?” Clark asked, the casual use of vampire going over his head. “I wasn’t changed.”

It was Lex’s turn to be surprised, his brow furrowed.

“I mean, not as far back as I can remembered. I was always… different. My parent’s said I’d always…”

“Liked your steaks mooing?” Lex cracked, a proud smirk across his lips.

Clark went quiet at that, looking away from Lex. A moment of quiet passed between them as Lex kneeled beside Clark, taking the moment of silence to really take in Clark. He was so different from others of their kind, now that he really paid attention. There was a warmth radiating off him, though not nearly as burning as most humans. A faint whiff of metallic blood pulled Lex in under the strawberry sweetness that dripped off Clark.

“When I was a kid… a toddler, really… it wasn’t long after my parents adopted me, I was just following them around the farm and meeting the animals when they lost track of me.” Clark’s voice was almost distant, eyes unfocused as Lex reached out to touch his arm. “They lost track of me, had no idea where I ran off too. I’d been a handful already, they were worried I’d hurt myself. But then they heard… They found me with one of the cows-“

“Clark, hey, it’s okay.” Lex said. “So that’s how you keep a low profile around these parts? You’ve been feeding on cattle?”

“What? No!” Clark snapped. “I could never… I can’t drink blood.”

There was a moment as Lex took in everything and the disgust on Clark’s face. Finally, Lex stood and walked over to his personal bar, uncapping a bottle and pouring out a glass of thick, room temperature blood. The aroma was like an assault on Clark’s senses as he jumped up from his seat, feeling the same aching need as when Lana’s hand sliced open on the cemetery fence.

“So this doesn’t make you hungry?” Lex asked, walking closer as he swirled the cup. “You don’t want to drink every last drop until there’s nothing left?”

It almost hurt Clark wanted it so bad, blinking back the sting of tears building up. He shook his head, turning away from Lex and taking a few steps away. The smell still overpowered him, the taste practically slithering down his throat already as Clark resisted the urge.

“Clark, how long has it been since you had blood?” Lex asked, setting the glass on his desk and hurrying over to the young man. “Please tell me you’ve had blood since you were a kid.”

“I…” Clark blinked back the tears as well as he could, a few stays falling down his face. “I’ve never…”

“What are you, exactly?” He asked, feeling the warmth radiating off Clark.

“I don’t know.” Clark admitted, his voice weak.

“You’re starved,” Lex said, watching the way Clark’s face paled and shook.

He helped him back onto the couch and in a moment had the glass in Clark’s hands.

“How do you even sustain yourself?” Lex asked, watching the confused longing behind Clark’s eyes as he eyed the blood.

“It’s… um…” Clark stumbled over his words, but he couldn’t tell now if it was from his thirst or an almost embarrassment that brought color back to his face. “Coconut water.”

Lex couldn’t help snorting at the answer, hiding his snicker behind a hand as he turned away.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, turning back and going quiet.

Clark was so clearly torn as he looked at the glass, peeking at Lex from under his lashes.

“My mom, uh… she took a nursing program in school, coconut water can be used in emergency transfusions so…” He sighed, looking away again as he ran his tongue over his aching front teeth.

“They didn’t know any better, just tried to find a way to help their kid.” Lex finished, squeezing Clark’s arm. “Hey, don’t worry. Listen, I get this through the blood bank, it’s not like you’re drinking some random innocent off the street.”

Clark looked between Lex and the drink for a moment longer. Despite it all, despite still not being sure about that Nixon guy, Clark couldn’t deny the sense of trust Lex revealing himself had solidified. He was just like him, almost. He knew about the thirst, the hunger always deep in Clark’s gut as he went through a normal day. But still, he shook his head and took shallow breaths.

Lex hadn’t been wrong about the sheer stubbornness he was up against, sighing and picking up the glass. He wouldn’t be rude and drink in front of someone so starved himself, stashing it in well stocked mini fridge under the bar. The smell of blood still hung heavy in the library as Clark looked in near agony. It was almost admirable how steadfast Clark was in his resistance if it hadn’t been objectively stupid.

“Coconut water is well and good when you have no other option, but it’s not going to help out long term.” Lex said. “Thirst just grows when not treated, and I’m sure you’re growing has made it worse.”

Clark gave the barest hint of a nod before finally taking a deep breath.

“Let me guess, it’s hard to be around people sometimes. Especially some people during that time of the month.” Lex said, chuckling as Clark gave him a confused look. “What’s your fang situation?”

“My what?” Clark seemed thoroughly confused by Lex, only making Lex feel more sympathy for the poor kid.

Lex flashed Clark a toothy grin, his point becoming more evident as Clark realized what he was looking for. It was so subtle he could easily miss is when not paying attention. Like gleaming little daggers, Lex’s canines were just a touch longer than the rest, a sharp point to their tip. Clark’s heart sped up as the dawning realization hit him. He definitely wasn’t human, but he definitely wasn’t the same as the man in front of him.

“What am I?” He muttered.

“I don’t know, but I want to help you, Clark.” Lex said, kneeling next to him. “You are something I’ve never seen before, you’re something entirely new and amazing.”

Clark met Lex’s eyes, filling with the infectious excitement that danced just behind them. Part of him didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to know the truth. He was Clark Kent, son of Martha and Jonathan Kent, nothing more. But that wasn’t true. There was so much more than just that to Clark, and it was starting to make him scared of his own restraint.

“Why do you want to help me?” He asked.

“Because I know what it’s like to be alone without anyone who understood what you were going through, what it’s like when you aren’t even sure what’s happening to yourself.” Lex said, a firm hand squeezing his forearm. “I promise we’ll figure this out.”

Swallowing thickly, Clark looked from the hand that grounded him to the spot and slowly back to those compelling, grey eyes. He nodded slowly before clearing his throat.

“Okay.”

The smile on Lex’s face could have lit the Metropolis Christmas tree after Clark finally agrees, he couldn’t help but share the relief it all meant. Maybe, at last, Clark could have some answers.

“I’ll make sure that reporter is gone, no one will never bother you or your parents again.” He said. “You’ll be under my protection.”

“Thank you,” Clark said.

“Now, if you’re serious about figuring this out we need you healthy. Will you please try drinking some blood?”

While there was something deeply amusing about being asked so politely to drink blood, Clark’s stomach still clenched in on itself at the thought of actually indulging. But still, he nodded slowly. As he watched Lex stand and return to the bar, a deep guilt began picking at Clark. It felt like he was doing something terribly wrong as he stood and followed Lex, not arguing a moment as two fresh glasses of blood were poured and he took one.

Lex raised his glass before sipping it like the blood was some kind of fine brandy. Clark sniffed his glass a moment, the tangy copper making him salivate. Finally, he brought the glass to his lips and took a long sip. The rush as the thick substance ran down his tongue and throat was greater than any snuck beer or high school party cocktail, more refreshing than his first sip of water after working in the August sun all day. It was like every cell in his body was overturned all at once and charged to go as the last drop ran down his throat.

Setting the glass down, Clark took a moment to breath.

“How do you feel?”

Clark licked his lips, a stray drop bursting with salty flavor as it hit his tongue. Lex didn’t need a verbal answer, he could see the way Clark’s appearance changed with just once drink. The color returned to his face instantly, filling him with a vitality and clarity like a new morning.

“Better.” Clark admitted, not meeting Lex’s eyes as he set aside the glass.

“If we’re going to do this together, you can’t assign some moral failing to you finally drinking blood.” He said, pouring Clark another glass. “Coconut water may be okay for emergency transfusions, but you don’t have to live everyday like an emergency.”

Clark eyed the fresh glass before meeting Lex’s gaze again. How piercing those dark blue eyes were now that Clark came into himself, two sapphires glowing with strength and melancholy. What Lex wouldn’t give to slap that spark of self sacrifice he saw brewing under Clark’s skin. But still he smiled, watching as Clark knocked back the second glass and continued to slowly unwind. They would figure him out soon enough.


	19. Chapter 19

It wasn’t easy sneaking around Aunt Nell, it never was. Just trying to get her library books to her room unseen had nearly driven Lana to tears. Trying to get a box of salt up there was even worse. As a final resort, she emptied part of the box into a baggy she repackaged in a tampon box. Finally in her room after dinner, Lana pulled her books and locket from under her bed and opened one of them.

Hands shaking, Lana tried to pour as steady a stream of salt in a small circle on the carpet floor. Hiding the baggy back in the box, she quickly tried to smooth out the salt line. She had no idea what she was doing or how it was supposed to look, the books had only given the vague description of using salt as a defense against spirits and it was enough for her. The locket laid in the center and shone dully under lamp light.

With a deep breath, Lana turned off the lamp. Her lighter flicked to life, easily lighting the scented three wick candle in her hands. She took one more deep breath and sat on the floor, setting the candle in front of her.

There was a distinct shift in energy as Lana took her place. As if a heavy, black scarf had been thrown over the room. The candle light didn’t reach far across the bedroom, the corner just ahead still shrouded in shadows. After a moment of watching, Lana realized those shadows were growing. From the crack of the corner, a deeper darkness seeped out slowly until a form was visible. Sitting in the corner, crossed legged like Lana, was more of a void light couldn’t penetrate than a shadow cast by something else.

This time, knowing it was there, Lana didn’t feel scared.

“Do you want it?” She asked.

The figure didn’t respond.

“Do you want my locket?” She asked again.

Still, the figure didn’t respond but a deep pull in Lana’s stomach answered her.

_It’s not mine._

“Who are you?”

_Close._

“Close… to what?”

The figure’s head tilted it’s head to the side as if curious. Lana gasped as she realized what she asked, grasping tightly to her knees and not letting her gaze leave it.

“Please just go away.” She whispered. “I don’t want you here, leave me alone.”

The figure shook it’s head back and forth. Lana blinked a few time, her eyes focusing and unfocusing. Suddenly, she noticed how much closer the void had come to the circle. Not by much, but a foot or two closer. Lana swallowed thickly and took a deep breath.

“I said leave me alone.” She said, her voice still barely more than a whisper.

Once again, she felt her eyes struggling to focus and tried to blink away the sensation. Closer ever still, the figure was sitting two feet from the circle now, the candle light still unable to illuminate the figure itself but outlined it in warm, flickering light. It was nearly the same size as Lana, if not more petite. It’s lap was swallowed in shadow despite it’s well defined torso.

“Stop it.” Lana whimpered, her heart beginning to race. “Go away.”

Once again, the figure shook it’s head before finally moving. A hand drew up from it’s lap and slowly reached out to the locket. It was barely close when the candle light finally caught some flash of the figure, it’s hand pale and slender but caked in dirt. The short, chipped hairs were rimmed in brown as it caught the flame.

Lana couldn’t help the shriek of surprise as she jumped, the light of the candle suddenly gone as hot wax spattered her bare feet. Tears came to her eyes as she leapt onto the bed, pulling her legs up as she heard running and the door flung open.

Before Lana could cover any of what she was doing, Aunt Nell burst onto the scene, eyes wide with shock.

“Lana?” She cried, flipping the light switch.

As soon as the lights came on, Lana knew it was over. The long silence was mortifying as Aunt Nell looked from Lana to her wax spattered feet covered in red splotches, to the disaster of her floor. The salt and books were speckled with orange-cicle scented wax, a larger pool solidifying in the white carpet. Lana hadn’t realized it had burned for the long, the exchange having felt both infinite and like less than a minute.

The looks that moved over her aunt’s face made Lana regret everything that led her to that moment, watching as surprise turn to confusion and slowly morph into disappointment and frustration.

“What were you doing?” Nell asked, taking a deep breath through her nose.

“I-I-I was-“

“This is exactly the kind of thing I’ve been worried about you dabbling in, I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner.” She said, stepping over the salt circle and grabbing the stack of wax splattered books. “Where did you even get these?”

“They’re from the school library.” Lana said, eyes cast to the pool of cooling wax solidifying in the carpet.

“They let kids read stuff like this?” Nell sighed at the wax and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I want you to clean this up in the morning, all of it.”

“I have opening shift at the Beanery in the morning.” Lana said, meeting her aunt’s eyes.

They watched each other for a long before Nell took a deep breath and nodded.

“Fine, but we need to talk about this when you get home. This kind of unhealthy behavior is unacceptable.”

And with that, Nell left, the bedroom door still wide open behind her. As soon as Lana was sure her aunt was downstairs and not returning, she slipped off her bed and picked up her locket. There was a moment she could only stare at it, the dull front reflecting an amorphous face back. For a moment, Lana felt the thought to open it push through her mind. It stunned her how loud the thought was, her fingers twitching to the sealed edge. Before she could act it out, Lana tossed the locket onto the bed and shook her head.

She was worked up, between her aunt and the suddenly distant experience of just minutes ago. Taking several more deep breaths, Lana pulled herself together and started towards the bathroom to clean the wax from her skin.


	20. Chapter 20

The strength and energy coursing through Clark after leaving Luthor Manor almost outweighed the guilt that continued growing from the second the blood hit his lips. The hours had passed in such a blur after he finally relented to feeding, the conversation wandering from how Clark differed from his peers to their favorite comic books. A contented drowsiness overtook Clark for most of the time. For the first time he could remember, he felt truly full and satisfied. It wasn’t even until the clock struck four in the morning that Clark remembered his dad would be up very soon.

“Keep an eye on yourself, okay?” Lex said as they walked to the front door together. “This is your first time at a hundred percent.”

“I think I can keep a handle on myself, Lex.” Clark said, sharing a smile with him.

“Okay, just be careful.” He said, opening the front door for Clark.

“Hey, I’ve got this.”

Clark had all the confidence in himself as he stepped out the front door, a sudden warmth growing through his chest as he realized he didn’t have to hold back now. Around Lex, it wasn’t the same worry as around Pete or Chloe. Putting everything he had behind it, Clark launched forward and began running. The usual rush that overtook him was nothing compared to the split second he ran down the country roads and found himself at the kitchen door of his own home.

He stood for a moment, eyes wide as he brushed dust from his jacket and jeans. The excitement made his heart race as he tried to take deep breaths, trying to open the back door as quietly as possible. As he carefully shut the door behind him, Clark turned and froze as he met the watchful gaze of his parents at the breakfast table.

“Good morning, Clark.” Jonathan said.

“Uh, morning, I was just… just checking on the cows.” He said the first excuse that popped up.

“Really? I didn’t see you out there when we were putting them out to pasture.”

Clark cleared his throat, running a hand through his unruly hair as he tried to think of quick way to cover his ass. By the look on his mother’s face, it was too late. Jonathan sighed and shared a look with Martha.

“Clark, where were you?” She asked, setting down the Smallville Ledger.

“I was just out, going for a walk.” He said.

“I hope you weren’t snooping around the Luthor’s.” Jonathan said as Clark started for the stairs.

“Why are you two so against them? I know no one really likes them but Lex isn’t that bad.” Clark said, his brow drawn together as he looked over his parents. “Weren’t you the ones who always told me not to judge someone before I got to know them?”

Martha sighed and shared a look with Jonathan, her expression stuck somewhere between pride and frustration.

“So you were at the Luthor’s?” Jonathan asked.

Clark’s silence spoke louder than anything he could have said as his father ran a hand over his face. Jonathan stood from the breakfast table and faced his son, grabbing him by his shoulders and making him meet his eyes.

“Clark, please, I know we always told you that, but you have to understand the world isn’t always that black and white. Some people… you have to understand the people around them often speak to their character.”

“Lex doesn’t have anyone, dad.” Clark said, shaking off his hand. “If you’re going to insist on judging Lex by who he surrounds himself with, then what are you saying about me?”

“Clark!”

“Then just tell me why I shouldn’t see him!” He snapped. “He’s like me! He wants to help me and you know what? I want him to! For once I actually feel normal.”

“Clark, we never meant to make you feel like you weren’t,” Martha said.

“No, you didn’t, but you didn’t have to mean to.” Clark said, looking between his parents. “When are you going to understand I can’t be your kind of normal, though? I can’t keep pretending I’m… I’m human like the rest of you.”

The kitchen was silent as Clark’s words sunk in. It was almost sad to watch as Martha and Jonathan slowly accepted what their son said. All of them were aware of this fact, but still they hadn’t allowed that fact to truly sink in over the years.

Slowly, Martha started to nod.

“Okay, sweetie.” She said, holding back so much as she took a deep breath. “You’re right.”

“Martha-“

“Jonathan.” Her tone was firm but gentle in the way only a mother could, turning her husband silent with a look that said everything. “Clark’s a young man, we need to start trusting his decisions. No matter what we think.”

Martha stood and walked between her husband and son, taking Clark’s face in her hands. Looking down into his mother’s warm brown eyes, Clark saw the conflict he could hear in her voice and started to understand. It was a look he’d seen in his own eyes for quite a while now. It was confused and unsure, even a little scared, but also proud of the steps Clark was taking as he grew up.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful. All I’ve ever wanted for you was to be happy and feel normal, and if Lex’s friendship makes you feel that, then I don’t want to stand between you two.” She said, smiling up at her son.

Clark felt his face growing warmer in her hands, his chest growing tight as he tore his eyes away from hers for a moment. It was so hard to look at her with such confusing feelings swirling in his chest. When he looked back to her, he saw a moment of hesitation before she smiled a little wider and pulled him down to kiss his forehead.

“I love you, Clark. Go get some sleep.” She said, rubbing his shoulder.

Clark looked to his father for a moment, Jonathan’s own eyes cast to the floor. Looking back to his mother, he nodded and whispered a goodnight before walking up out into the hall and up the stairs. As soon as he reached the second floor, it was like everything relaxed all at once and he could lay right there on the staircase and sleep for days.

As he reached his bedroom door, Clark could hear the muffled sound of his parents hushed talking. He took a deep breath, willing the tightness in his chest to unwind as he stumbled inside and kicked his work boots off. Before falling on his bed, he slipped off his deep blue jacket and tossed it just short of his desk chair. The moment’s Clark met the pillow, he was out like a light. Nothing could stir him out of the deep sleep that overtook him, not even the golden, pink light of the sunrise filtering through the bedroom window.

***

Lana had to thank the opening shifts for finally forcing her to be a morning person. No matter how she tried through the school years, she could never comfortably conform to the early morning schedules. But now, opening the Beanery at five in the morning with her one free coffee per shift. While she wasn’t nearly as good behind the counter as she was serving, Lana had perfected her own favorite drink one of the regular barista’s taught her. Double shot of espresso with the house caramel syrup, steamed soy milk, and a sprinkle of the flakey salt they were supposed to use on the bagels over the foam.

When Zoe took over for her shift, Lana took a second for the road before walking outside to find Whitney’s truck already waiting for her. She made herself smile a bit as she opened the door and hopped into the passenger seat.

“Hey, babe.” Whitney said, leaning in for a kiss as Lana buckled in.

As she noticed Whitney coming in, Lana turned her face quickly, his warm lips pressing against her cheek. He pulled back slowly, looking over her for a moment and sighing.

“How was work?” He asked.

“Fine.” She said, sipping her coffee.

The truck was quiet as he pulled out into the main road and started driving out towards Lana’s house. Lana picked at the skin around her nails as they moved out of downtown, open fields and farm houses passing them by.

“Hey, uh,” Whitney said. “How about we go hang out?”

“What?”

“Come on, since you quite cheer we haven’t really seen each other much with football going on,” he said. “I miss my girl.”

When she’d started dating Whitney freshman year, Lana had always loved the butterflies she felt when Whitney would call her his girl. Now, they felt more like razor blades. It was a deep discomfort that she couldn’t deny much longer. Yet still, she swallowed it back.

“I can’t, Aunt Nell had the leash really short right now.” She said, looking out her window as she drained her coffee.

“What happened?”

“Just... she wants to talk about something, I think she’s grounding me.”

“Wow, little lady’s a troublemaker.” Whitney snorted.

“Hey, that’s not funny.” She said, brow drawn up.

“Oh, don’t make that face.” He chuckled. “You’re going to give yourself wrinkles.”

Lana bit back a retort as she relaxed her face. The truck finally pulled up to the sweet, white home she’d always called home. Taking a deep breath, she leaned over and kissed Whitney on the cheek.

“Listen, I’m sorry I’ve been so… distant.” She said, trying to smile. “Once everything blows over with Aunt Nell, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Promise?” He asked, leaning close as his eyes drifted to Lana’s pink glossed lips.

“I promise.” She said, leaning away as she opened her door.

“I love you,” he said.

“Love you, too.” She said after hesitating a moment.

The door slammed behind her as Lana hopped out and started up the porch. The engine roared behind Lana as she slipped inside and quietly made her way upstairs. Aunt Nell’s car was still in the driveway, unfortunately, meaning she hadn’t forgotten their conversation and was waiting. The only saving grace being Lana had until she got the candle wax out of her carpet first.

When she entered her bedroom, the things to clean up were already in place on her nightstand. An old cleaning rag, the clothing iron, and a butter knife. Lana sighed, tossing her purse onto the vanity and grabbing a hair tie. Messy bun in place, she got on her hands and knees and started working.

It was a stubborn mess, as wax can be, but it gave something menial to focus on. Cleaning was a better thing to think about than whatever Aunt Nell needed to discuss with her. But still that little thought would force it’s way to the front of her mind every once in a while. That nagging worry that never let up when Nell was upset.

She’d gotten most of the wax out of her plush carpet, the spot still noticeably different from the rest, when there was a knock at her door. Taking a deep breath, Lana turned off the iron and unplugged it from the wall.

“Come downstairs for lunch.” Nell said, not waiting for a response before her footsteps retreated from the door.

Lana steeled herself before getting up and walking downstairs. On the dining room table were two plates of a leafy salad and sandwiches. Of course, Nell sat across from Lana’s seat, already poking at her salad. It looked so unfortunately normal despite how nervous Lana felt as she took her seat and began eating.

“Sweetheart, I wanted to apologize first for how I reacted last night.” Nell said, setting her fork aside. “But this did make it clear we are long overdue for a discussion.”

“About?”

With a sigh, Nell straightened her back a little and tried to meet Lana’s downcast eyes.

“Since you were a baby, I always worried how your parents... accident would effect you.” She started.

“You can say murder,” Lana said. “It wasn’t an accident, they were murdered.”

Nell let out a long breath through her nose and nodded.

“Since you were a baby, I always worried how your parents murder would effect you. Now, I’m starting to think keeping you in Smallville this long may have been a mistake.” Nell said, raising a hand to silence Lana as her head shot up. “I always did my best to make sure they were somehow a part of your life, but this town… People run with such disturbing stories and I tried to shield you from them as much as I could.”

Lana bit into the side of her cheek, a heavy weight pulling her down from inside as she realized where her aunt was going with this.

“I think you should talk to someone again, these… ghost stories aren’t good for you. I thought you were okay before but now-“

“I don’t need to talk to a psychiatrist,” Lana snapped.

“Sweetie-“

“No! I hated the one you made me talk to in the first grade, I’m not doing it again.”

“Well, that’s too bad. I found one in Metropolis who has an opening for a new patient starting next month.” Nell said, her voice firm and final.

“Metropolis? We can’t make that commute regularly.”

Nell took a deep breath before meeting Lana’s eyes again, everything crystal clear at last.

“How long have you been planning this?” Lana asked.

“Since I was offered as job at the LuthorCorp headquarters last month,” Nell admitted. “The flower shop is nice, but it was your mother’s dream. There’s a lovely apartment I found that would give you plenty of your own space and you’ll be closer to MetU after you finish high school in the city.”

“You can’t be serious…” Lana muttered, her eyes stinging with frustration. “All my friends are here, everything I’ve ever known is in Smallville.”

“And that’s okay, you don’t have to stay here forever. Not like your mother did.”

“Not like you did?” She spat.

Aunt Nell’s eyes widened in surprise before her face set in that tell tale blankness that said she was done with the conversation. Lana wasn’t.

“My parents loved it here, they wanted to raise me in Smallville and give me the chance to raise my own kids here. Where it’s _safe_ and _quiet_. Just because you don’t like it here doesn’t mean I don’t!” Lana yelled, pushing her lunch plate away. “What is there for me in Metropolis? An unpaid internship getting coffee for stuffy corporate types? I don’t want that, I never said I wanted to even go to MetU! You haven’t even asked me what _my_ plans were for college, you just assumed I’d do what you want.”

“It’s not what _I_ want, it’s what your parents wanted for you.” Nell said.

“My parents would want me to do what makes me happy, and Smallville makes me happy.” Lana said, standing from the table and storming out of the dining room.

“Lana!”

“I’m not moving to Metropolis and I’m not talking to a shrink!” She shouted, grabbing her jacket off the hook and storming out of the house.

Outside was beautiful, as usual. The sun shone bright as the few birds that hadn’t begun migration chirped and flitted about. Lana pulled the jacket on against the early autumn chill and ran from the farm house. There wasn’t many places she could really go, most of the Lang property had been sold off to their neighbors when Nell took over the property, unable to sustain a baby and a small farm. But still, the Kent’s had always left the stables open to Lana. They’d been meant to be hers by all rights, and so that’s where she ran.


	21. Chapter 21

The Kent household was quiet when Clark finally woke up well into the afternoon. Despite the bickering of the morning, chores still waited to be done. When he went downstairs, throwing on a jacket and grabbing work gloves from the counter, the house was pleasantly quiet and full of the smell of fresh baked goods. Martha had probably taken some of her fresh muffins around town to vendors, leaving his father either with her or working outside.

The sun was high in the sky as Clark took a deep breath. He started his way towards the stables off behind the barn on the old Lang property. It wasn’t until he was halfway there that Clark heard a gentle sniffling, his head whipping around to find the source. From where he stood, there weren’t any animals out of their enclosures or any that seemed particularly distressed. Walking closer to the stables, the sound got louder until a feeling of dread filled Clark’s belly.

He rushed to the entrance, freezing in place as he saw Lana standing at the door of her favorite horse’s pen. It wasn’t uncommon to see her out there or taking Harold out for a ride, Jonathan always made it clear they owned the stables in name only. The Lang’s had loved their horses so much, no one wanted to keep Lana from her birth right despite Nell’s inability to keep up the property. But there she stood, silky, dark hair half up in a messy bun and thick, blue jacket unzipped as she rubbed Harold’s long neck.

“Lana?” Clark said.

Lana jumped, turning to look at Clark with swollen eyes. Her face was red and tear stained, face turned up in an unattractive way. Clark had never seen Lana like that before, seen such despair so plain on her face. It took him aback, shocked that such beauty could be distorted by pain so easily.

“Shit, Clark, I-I’m so sorry.” She said, quickly wiping at her face.

“No, you don’t have to apologize,” he said.

He walked closer to Lana, watching as the horse nuzzled against her. The speckled, grey steed was nearly as old as Lana, Clark remembered as he watched her take it’s long face her hands and rub it’s nose.

“Do you want to talk about it or should I pretend I was never her?” He asked, smiling as he tried to crack a joke.

Lana took a deep breath, blinking for a moment before she shook her head.

“No, um, I should probably go.” She said, smiling at Clark before leaving a kiss on Harold’s snout.

“Wait, don’t.” He said, grabbing her hand as she turned away.

He couldn’t feel the warmth through his thick work gloves, but something about Lana’s scent was so different today. It was just as strong and fragrant as always, warm spices mingled with metallic blood, but that underlying blood smell was far weaker than before. Clark felt his words coming out easily, unchoked by the usually suffocating aroma.

“You know you’re always welcome, and I’m here for you if you need a friend.” He said, gently squeezing her hand.

Lana’s warm brown eyes looked back at Clark, watching his large hand as it swallowed hers before looking back at his face. As their eyes met, his heart beat faster for entirely new reasons. For once, it felt like he was looking at Lana clearly. Beyond the blood lust that had been ever present before last night, he finally saw Lana herself. That beautiful, round face that looked both ancient and like it could grace the cover of a fashion magazine. She had more elegance than he’d seen in any other girl in Smallville, an elegance that reminded him of Lex. Even in her despair, Lana held herself with such dignity.

“Nell is moving us to Metropolis next month.” She said, voice barely a whisper.

And suddenly it was all crumbling down around Clark. The pain and confusion in Lana made sense but more than anything, that final sense of security being around her was gone. As soon as he finally found a way to be around her without fearing his own impulses, Lana was being stolen from Clark.

“W-wait, you’re…”

He blinked for a moment before seeing the tears welling up in Lana’s dark eyes. Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms and squeezed her gently. Her small arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed back, her forehead leaned against his chest as she let out a shuttering breath. Tears soaked into Clark’s flannel as he was engulfed in Lana’s warmth.

It was Clark’s first time touching Lana like this, touching anyone like this. All his life, he’d kept his friend’s at a distance physically. He’d hugged his parent’s plenty of times, but after a lifetime with them it wasn’t the same. The way Lana felt in his arms was the most right he’d ever felt. Maybe he could give her the security and love he’d dreamed of giving her since they were children. Every boy thought that about Lana, the girl with a line of Smallville boys lined up for the chance to be the one, but for the first time Clark wondered if he was next in line.

“I don’t want to leave Smallville,” she whimpered. “This is my home, this is where I belong.”

“I know.”

As Lana’s breath evened, she looked up at Clark with those watery, brown eyes and his heart stopped for a moment. Even tear stained and puffy faced, she was beautiful.

“I’d rather die than leave.”

The bold statement snapped Clark out of his appreciative haze finally. He took her face in his hands, brushing a tear away, her skin almost scorching from how worked up she’d become. But still, Clark held firmly and kept his eyes on hers as she cupped his hands with her own tiny ones.

“Please don’t say that. I don’t want you to leave either, but… but if you have to leave…” He could barely string the words together as he stared into those doe eyes. “If you have to leave you can always come back. Smallville won’t disappear as soon as you leave.”

“It really feels like it will sometimes.” She said, sniffling. “Like one day it will all just be a distant dream and I won’t be able to come back.”

“It won’t, I promise.”

Finally, Lana cracked a smile for Clark. Through all that worry and confusion, she nodded and took a deep breath.

“Well, I guess if Clark Kent says it’s true then it is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked as he let go of Lana, letting her wipe as her face before turning back to Harold.

The horse had been quietly patient as the two talked but perked up as Lana returned her attention to the steed.

“I mean, who’s more Smallville than Clark Kent?”

The comment swirled in Clark’s mind like a mosquito before it settled deep in his thoughts. He smiled bashfully, sliding his hands in the back pockets of his jeans as his eyes fell to the hay strewn stable floor.

“Ah, no, I’m… I’m really not.” He said, peeking under his heavy lashes at Lana.

She laughed, shaking her head as she looked back at him.

“Sure, you’re not.” After petting Harold for another moment, she turned back to Clark. “Could you help me get him ready to ride?”

“Of course.”

With the tension between them broken, Clark set out to grabbing the saddle and things for Lana. In no time, she was on top of her dear horse and waving Clark goodbye before riding off into the afternoon.

***

Lex rose with the setting sun as he did every night, a new determination steeled into his heart. The last week had been very enlightening and he intended to keep these facts to himself. The new night staff was far quieter and more removed, barely appearing around the manor unless called. It was more peaceful than Lex had anticipated.

As soon as he was clothed and fed, sipping out of a blood bag on his way to the library, Lex found himself face to face with the notorious Roger Nixon. The weasel of a man was sat as patiently as he could as Lex entered, not paying him much mind until he was perched behind his desk.

“I-“

Lex raised a hand to silence Nixon, eyes scanning the new black suit he wore. It wasn’t nearly as cheap as the beige mess he’d arrived in before, but still felt like an offense to the senses. Nixon’s jaw clenched as he waited for Lex to allow him to speak. It may have been rude to toy with the reporter like that, but it was such a joy to watch.

“You have been reckless.” Lex said. “And stupid.”

“Sir-“

“No, no, you’re listening right now.”

Nixon settled back in his seat, taking a deep breath and steeling himself.

“You talked to the Kent’s directly, you were not supposed to do that. You were supposed to observe from afar and report back to me. It’s lucky for you that it ended up helping me in the end.”

“What’s the supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t need you anymore.”

“What?!”

Nixon shot out of his seat, hands slamming on the glass top desk. The few knick-knacks lining it’s top rattled, only stilling as Lex calmly reached out to still one about to topple.

“You’ll still get our agreed upon deal. There’s a check with your name on it and you and your brother will have peaceful and quiet lives without the authorities knowing how you abused the system.”

“Seriously? You haven’t even heard what I found on the Sullivan case.” Nixon snapped.

“I don’t _care_ what you found on the Sullivan case.” Lex said, leaning forward and catching Nixon’s eyes in his.

The sudden silence was deafening, not even a fire ready in the health to break it up. Nixon’s face had gone slack, focused so clearly on those stormy, grey eyes. Deep into the man’s mind, Lex probed and fondled until a smile graced his pale lips.

“You are going to get in your car and you’re going to forget the Sullivan case. We’re done.”

As he withdrew, Nixon slowly blinked before his eyes were fluttering and he noticed the check being held out to him. Taking it between quivering fingers, he couldn’t quite blink away the fog enough to read how many zeros had been tacked onto the final payment. Nodding slowly, he tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket and turned on his heels.

It was nearly robotic as he walked through the dim halls, light bouncing around the stone halls as scones shone against stained glass. Even as a maid clad in black slipped by, Nixon focused singularly on his trek through the manor and out the front door, walking up the long driveway to his car parked not too far from the gate.

It wasn’t until the Smallville town sign passed that Nixon finally snapped out of it, pulling off to the side of the road and shaking his head. Looking back, he confirmed it was the town sign and took a deep breath. He didn’t even remember starting the car, his mind a blur turned blank after he snapped at the Luthor kid.

Taking a deep breath, he looked around and tried to piece it together. His eyes fell on the file on the passenger seat. Across the file tab was printed KENT, CLARK in his chicken scratch. Just on the inner cover was pinned a photo taken at a distance, the Kent kid walking among the cows, looking over his shoulder as he squinted against the sun.

Clark Kent, the Kent’s, the Luthor’s, it all swirled in Nixon’s mind as he picked up the copy of his adoption papers. There was something about it all that intrigued him, there was a story under all this. A story he was going to break.


	22. Chapter 22

It was agonizing days since Clark saw Lex. He’d promised they would get to the bottom of Clark’s abnormal physiology by both human and vampire standards, promised to get the reporter off his back. The reporter definitely wasn’t an issue anymore, as far as Clark could tell. The farm had been quiet besides the more frequent visits from Lana to ride Harold. It was around Tuesday after their last meeting that Clark found a note wedged in his windowsill from Lex. He asked Clark be patient and trust him, that there would be something new soon.

It was nearly the weekend now as Clark sat in the Torch office, swinging back and forth lazily as he propped his arms and chin up on the back of a rolling chair. He watched Chloe type up the last bits of the next edition of the school paper, inserting his field contributions she’d delegated to him. It was a wonder she got it done every week with only her two best friends to bully into typing up cafeteria menus and yearbook staff to pull photos from. All this between her insistence on still writing her senior project on the 1989 Smallville kidnapping.

Clark sighed, resting his forehead against his arms as he remembered his own project was still up in the air. Even Pete was on top of it, finding a passion in coaching a kids football team. There wasn’t anything he could think of he was particularly excited to do.

“Can you get that copy?” Chloe asked, waving to the printer.

Obediently, Clark rolled over to the printer and grabbed the still hot paper. He rolled back, laying it on top of Chloe’s organized mess of a desk. Her thanks went unnoticed as Clark’s eye was caught on the heading of a paper sticking out of the stack. Carefully extracting it, he read over the top and took a deep breath.

“What is this?” He asked.

“What?” Chloe turned back, grabbing the fresh print before she noticed what Clark was holding. “Oh, that’s, uh… that’s for my report.”

“How did you get Lex’s adoption papers?” He asked, swallowing thickly as he read across the top again.

Metropolis United Charities.

“I won’t reveal my sources,” she said. “Is there something wrong?”

“A lot, for so many reasons.” He said, looking back up at her. “These are sealed records.”

“I know.” Chloe chewed on her bottom lip for a minute before sighing. “Clark, I know how it looks, but I’m really onto something. After finding out the agency that handled his adoption, things just started getting weirder than they already were.”

“What would justify invading Lex’s privacy like that?”

The tense moment between them was thick with so many unsaid things. Even as their argument was glossed over in the way only high school friendships could be, Chloe was still bruised by Clark’s secret acquaintanceship with Lex. And despite Clark’s own guilt over the matter, a wariness around Chloe was growing as he wondered if she’d applied these skills to learn about his own adoption.

“Only two adoptions were ever processed through Metropolis United Charities, Clark.” She said, her tone low. “I couldn’t get my hands on the other kid, but… Clark, it was only open for six months.”

“Six months?” Clark’s brows furrowed as his eyes wandered down to the papers in his hand.

“It opened six months before the kidnapping.”

A deep unease spread through Clark as he quickly threw the paper back onto the stack, rolling back to his previous spot and grabbing his backpack. He looked at the clock over the Torch office door, still several hours of school to go when the free period was over. The options to get out played in Clark’s mind before Chloe caught his attention again clearing her throat.

“If you’re thinking about running off to follow a lead on this, can you at least bring me?” She asked, brows raised. “I know that look anywhere and I want in if it will help this, please.”

“No, it’s not that. I just… I remembered something,” He said.

“What is it?”

“I forgot an essay for English at home, I should go call home and see if mom or dad could bring it over. Mr. O’Brien is strict on late assignments.” Clark lied, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later then?”

“Yeah, later.”

Clark walked through the quiet halls of Smallville High as classes went on around him. He finally made it to the office, slipping inside. It was a short conversation with the secretary and an excuse of a doctor’s appointment to sign himself out for the day. It was better the school not call home when he didn’t show up at his next class and blow his cover. As soon as he was outside, Clark ran.

The strength of human blood wasn’t behind Clark now as he sped down backroads of Smallville. That momentary blink of an eye speed Clark had experienced over the weekend had been a rush Clark couldn’t compare. He’d always gotten a buzz when he let go and pushed himself, always getting a little faster every year. But now, nothing could compare. A part of Clark wondered when next he could feel that kind of strength and satisfaction, if it was really okay with Lex’s supply from the blood bank.

Clark’s black and white morals had been in question all week, plaguing the back of his mind when things got too quiet. They had always been aware of his blood lust, his parents never denied him that fact, they’d been very blunt from the beginning. Clark wasn’t bad because of it, but he must never let it control him, he must only ever satisfy it with the meager substitutes available. Before drinking blood, it hadn’t seemed as bad as it did now. While Martha and Jonathan had only been doing their best, Clark felt like he’d gone his whole life eating Chloe’s attempt at fried tofu and had his first taste of fresh pizza.

The thoughts only had a minute to circulate Clark’s mind before he stopped just shy of the Kent far and out of his parent’s eyeline. Walking along the fence, he was able to pick out his mom out in the pasture with the cows, bucket in hand. He couldn’t see his dad, but could hear the sound of a motor going in the barn. As soon as Clark was sure Martha’s back was turned, he threw himself over the fence and zipped through the front door.

Upstairs and down the hall from his room, he was left in his parents study. File cabinets full of the farm’s finances and years of paperwork lined a wall to the left, an old roll top desk against the right wall by the window. Clark paused to listen for a moment before heading inside.

Since he was a kid, Martha had always kept Clark close to teach him the ins and outs of their system and make sure he knew where the important family papers were. Opening the bottom drawer of the last cabinet, a large, green binder was stuck in the very back. He paused another moment to listen before grabbing the binder and tucking it under his arm, closing the drawer and slipping down the hall to his room.

Clark peeked out the window before shirking off his backpack and tossing it under the bed before sitting down. Opening the cover, the first page was a copy of Martha and Jonathan’s application to adopt from Metropolis United Charities. There was a long moment Clark just stared at the page, unmoving and unfeeling, simply observing. The fact that his adoption was some kind of cover up had never been out of the question, just like they never tried to hide the fact that he wasn’t normal.

The sound of the front door opening made Clark snap out of his contemplation. In a moment, Clark was down the hall, replacing the binder in the cabinet, and back in his room. The close door clicked closed behind him as he heard footsteps on the stairs. He held perfectly still, quieting his breath as the footsteps approached his door.

“Clark? Are you home early?” Martha called out.

The door creaked open before she stepped inside. A beat of silence passed as Martha looked around the room. Finally, she stepped back out and closed the door behind herself. Clark waited until he heard her descend the stairs and didn’t return for a few minutes, finally taking a deep breath. He leaned against the wall and slid down, his knees almost touching the other wall. There were so many things going through Clark’s head that he couldn’t pin any one down long enough to process anything.


	23. Chapter 23

Chloe and Pete sat in the Torch office an extra hour waiting after the last bell of the day. The plan had been to meet up with Clark to get coffee after they’d all been so busy. It was easy to tell something was wrong with Clark, that he was disappointed in how rotten the year had started after he’d been so enthused about having a great last year of high school. After Clark ran off like he did during the free period, Chloe had a terrible feeling she wouldn’t see him again. As she reorganized her piles to pass the time, she feared that gut feeling had been right.

“Maybe we should just go without him,” Pete said.

“He’ll be here,” Chloe said. “It’s Clark, he wouldn’t miss the chance to moon over Lana over coffee.”

“Chloe, it’s been an hour. Come on, I think he needs some space right now.” Pete grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Chloe chewed on her bottom lip for a moment as she looked over the stacks on her desk. Her eyes fell on the header of the MUC forms Clark had been so taken by earlier. He’d been so taken by it, part of Chloe wondered about the other adoption they’d handled.

“Um, you know, I think I’m going to get ahead start on the next issue.” She said, turning back to Pete with a smile. “I’ll call my dad to pick me up later.”

“You’re really going to stay here late alone again?” Pete asked.

“I’ll be fine, lightening never strikes twice.”

“You realize just because lightening doesn’t strike twice often it still can and does?” He asked, shaking his head. “Seriously, you’re sure this is a good idea?”

“Pete, I’ll be fine,” she said. “It’s ancient history.”

A moment passed before Pete nodded and walked over to hug Chloe. She held onto him tight for a moment before he held her an arms length away and sighed.

“Don’t stay too late.”

“I’ll be home before dinner, don’t worry.” Chloe said, smiling as she watched Pete leave.

A moment later, she closed the office door, switching the lock and jamming a door stop under the lip. Back at her desk, Chloe opened her word processor and started shifting through the copies in the second to last stack. She skimmed the articles quickly, rereading the announcement of Lex’s adoption.

_Young Lex Luthor, born Alexander Donovan, was taken in by the Luthor patriarch after losing both parents in a tragic car accident in the country side of Gotham County. The car, which was discovered by a trucker not long after the crash, had flipped several times before coming to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. Both parents died on impact according to the coroner’s report, while young Lex only sustained second degree burns across his scalp and back._

Flipping to the next page, Chloe read over the police report, beginning to type up her notes.

The front door of the Kennedy household had almost been busted off the hinges into the living room of the small farm house. That’s where the slaughter happened. Lillian Kennedy had been putting her children to bed on a weekend night after they watched a Disney movie together. The VCR was still running when the sheriff made it onto the scene.

Chloe took a deep breath as she read over the report, her mind trying to reach back to the year. She had no memories before she was maybe five, but she always wondered what life had been like back then. How much happier things must have been when Chloe had been a toddler?

She took another deep breath and continued. In the living room was the mutilated corpse of Lillian Kennedy, the twenty-seven year old mother of two. She had only lived in town a year and had a part time job at the grocers while her seven year old son, Alexander Kennedy, was at the elementary school during the day. Her throat had been ripped out and the living room carpet soaked in her blood.

Chloe threw down the report and took several slow, deep breaths. She laid her head in her hands, rubbing her eyes until she saw static. It was exhausting to keep reading these reports, looking at the photos for something the police had missed. There had to be something that connected it all, perhaps something she didn’t have in her possession yet.

It was a knock at the door that made Chloe jump, the stack beside her arm scattering across the floor. She fell to her knees and started gathering up the papers, calling over her shoulder.

“Just a second!”

As soon as she had as many of the papers under an arm, she stood and turned towards the door. There was a moment where Chloe swore she was seeing wrong, her heart hammering against her chest as she realized it was true. The door was open, the tall form of Lex Luthor leaned against the door frame. Chloe quickly stepped in front of her desk and cleared her throat.

“Can I help you?” She asked.

“I’m looking for Chloe Sullivan.” Lex said, pushing off the door frame and walking in.

“Can I ask what about?”

“It’s kind of a private matter.” He said, smiling politely.

Chloe took a deep breath and sighed, nodding slowly.

“Of course, it is,” she said. “I am Chloe Sullivan.”

Lex seemed to grow a little more relaxed in his posture upon hearing that, holding out a gloved hand to Chloe.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chloe. I think we have a friend in common,” he said.

“Clark Kent.” She supplied, taking Lex’s hand.

“He’s an interesting person, isn’t he?” He said, chuckling. “I heard about your accident, and I have to say you’re quite brave still pursuing this story after what happened.”

“Did Clark tell you about my story?”

“Oh no, I heard about it through the grapevine.” Lex stepped around Chloe’s desk, looking over the landscape of papers.

“How exactly did you and Clark meet?”

“Oh, we’ve just seen each other around,” he said.

Chloe took Lex’s moment of distraction to look at the clock by the door, her stomach suddenly dropping. It was well after seven in the evening now. Her head snapped to the window, the sun already gone and the sky dark. A swell of panic rose in Chloe’s chest with a wave of nausea.

Those grey eyes flicked up to meet Chloe’s as he noticed her sudden change before Lex reached out for the police report on top of the scattered pile dropped on top of everything. While he read over it, taking in the pictures that had made Chloe squirm, she looked around the room and started inching her way towards the door.

“Well, Chloe, I’d like to ask a favor.” Lex said, cutting the silence of the office.

“Luthor’s ask favors?” She asked, attention snapped back to Lex.

He put back the file, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his long, black jacket. Before Chloe could get another word in, she was taken by the words drifting through her mind. It wasn’t quite like she was hearing them, but at the same time they weren’t her own thoughts. They wiggled deep into her mind, burying themselves under thoughts and memories that never saw the light of day. Chloe listened to each one closely as they settled down and she came to.

After several blinks, Chloe looked over her desk and computer monitor. Her brow drew up together as she looked over the notes on her monitor and the mess of papers out of their usual order. Finally looking back to the clock by the door, her eyes grew wide.

“Oh crap, it’s late!”

Turning around, Chloe grabbed her bag off the back of her chair and pulled out her phone. Quickly dialing, she held it up to her ear and chewed on her bottom lip.

“Hey, dad! I know, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I fell asleep at the Torch, can you come pick me up? I’m sorry I scared you… Okay, love you.”

Chloe flipped shut her phone and tossed it back into her bag, tossing in most of the disorganized mess of papers she must have knocked over in too. As soon as the computer was shut down, Chloe walked over to the door and pulled the door stop out from under the lip. The lock popped as she turned the door handle and stepped out, flipping off the light switch on her way out.

***

Lex parked his sports car on the curb outside of the Bearnery before his eyes fell on the paper in the passenger seat. He smirked, the page Chloe had given him was finally a good lead. Even though she wouldn’t remember ever seeing Lex, she would give him everything she learned on her journalistic conquest. Thankfully, she was so excited to have someone more than happy to listen that she spilled the beans on the originator of her theory.

The article she printed him off about Dr. Steven Hamilton said everything that was known about him after the 1989 kidnapping. It wasn’t a year later he proposed to local officials that Lex Luthor was the missing Alexander Kennedy. It was easily dismissed by the well documented car crash that killed the Donovan’s, leaving their Alexander an orphan. Dr. Hamilton had a practice just outside of Smallville as of 1991. If he was still there, Lex didn’t know.

Tearing himself away from the paper, Lex got out of the car and started inside the coffee shop. He walked with purpose to the front counter as a familiar girl leaned against the register. Heart shaped face and surprised doe eyes, she was that girl Clark had been so smitten over, Lana.

“Latte, small.” Lex said, holding out a couple bills with a smile.

“Right, of course.” Lana said, returning his smile.

After the change was exchanged, Lex wandered to the other end of the counter to wait for his order. His eyes scanned the busy floor before turning towards the bathrooms in the back.

“Clark isn’t here, if that’s why you’re here,” she said.

Lex perked up, looking over as Lana pulled a shot of espresso. She dumped the shot into a small to-go cup and looked back at him.

“Why do you think I’m here for him and not your excellent coffee?” He asked with a smirk.

“Because I saw you throw away your coffee last time you were here.” Lana said, moving the metal jug of coffee around the wand sticking out from the espresso machine.

Lex continued to watch closely as she finished his latte, capping it and sliding it across the counter. She continued to smile at him, their eyes locked as Lex picked up the cup and took a long sip.

“Thank you.” He said, smiling as he started for the door.

As he reached the car, Lex looked back through the window to see Lana walk around the counter to look out the window. He raised his cup to her, earning a smile and wave in response before he got into his car and drove away.


	24. Chapter 24

Friday morning was majorly off when Pete finally got to school. The first thing that tipped him off was the fact that Chloe didn’t come off the bus with Clark, who didn’t even want to wait and see if she was getting a ride from her dad. Instead, he just went to first period alone and left Pete waiting at the gate. Things had been worse than he feared after things started getting rocky.

Of course things wouldn’t be exactly the same after Chloe’s attack, but he figured that meant Chloe was going to be more paranoid and jumpy. Instead, it seemed like that one accident had cut a huge rift through the group. Between cold shoulder Clark and hot headed Chloe, Pete was left in that abyssal gap between them.

At the last bell before first period, Pete relented and headed to class. In English, his hopes were dashed that Chloe may have been to school early when she wasn’t in the seat behind him. The class discussion on Macbeth was dull without Chloe passing him stupid notes doodling out dramatic stick figures deaths or a sarcastic comment on the slackers pulling something right out of their asses without doing the reading.

Gym was next period, giving Pete about a half hour of free time before he wouldn’t be able to convince Couch he just missed him when taking attendance that he could check a few spots. It was an agonizingly dull listening to everyone debate the back and forth on stupid nit-picky details when they missed that the whole prophecy was to get Malcolm on the throne, not Macbeth.

The bell finally rang and the class filtered out, leaving their unit essay on the teacher’s desk on the way. Pete weaved around the underclassmen taking their time walking down the hall, saying hi to friends on his way through. It was no time until he ended up at the Torch office, knocking as he pushed open the door.

The office was a wreck. The long left side wall had been completely remodeled, the previous posters and framed accolades piled on a table. In their place was a new instillation, papers pinned up with different colored push pins, most colors concentrated to certain quadrants of the wall. In the blue quadrant towards the bottom left of the wall, blue sticky notes covered photos of Lex Luthor and news stories on him over the year. Chloe was bent over a desk scribbling out something on another post it before peeling it off and sticking it to the wall. She stepped back and looked over the masterpiece any conspiracy theorist would be proud of, tapping her pen against the sticky notes in her hand.

“Chloe?” Pete asked, stepping into the room.

Chloe jumped with a gasp before turning around to look at Pete with wide eyes. It wasn’t uncommon for Chloe to get invested in a story to the point of exhaustion, the telltale dark bags under her eyes saying everything. Never before had Pete seen Chloe so invested she didn’t look like she’d done anything, even change, but research since yesterday. Her blouse was wrinkled with a few dots of coffee around the neckline.

“Chloe, what’s going on?” Pete asked.

“Close the door.” She snapped, craning her neck to look around Pete into the hall. “Does Clark know you’re here?”

“No, he’s been acting weird, too. What’s going on between you two?” He asked, closing the door and walking over to the wall.

“Hey, hey, wait-“ Chloe spun him away and made him look her in the eyes. “Promise you won’t speak of anything you see or hear today outside of these walls. Not to Clark, not to a teacher, not to your family. This… this is bigger than all of us and I’m finally cracking it.”

“You’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”

“Promise.”

Sighing, Pete nodded slowly and raised his right hand.

“I, Pete Ross, swear I won’t tell anyone outside of these walls about your freaky conspiracy wall,” he promised. “Please tell me you’re okay, you don’t look good.”

“I’m fine, that’s not the point.” Chloe said, waving her hands before pointing to the center of the wall. “This explains everything.”

She tapped her finger on the 1989 kidnapping and murder police report.

“The sheriff’s office couldn’t find a conclusive answer to what happened to the Kennedy family. Lillian, the mother, appeared to be mauled by an animal. Why it entered the residence and how her infant son died in the way he did wasn’t conclusive, but it would explain how Lillian died and her older son, Alexander, disappearing.”

“How did the baby die?” Pete asked, warily looking between Chloe and her board.

“He… he was found in his crib, his neck snapped.”

A horrible sickness came over Pete as Chloe looked back at him, her own face full of unease.

“Some proposed it was her ex, Alexander’s father, who let a dog loose in the house while abducting his son.” She said, sighing. “But there’s no record of who his father was. Neither kid did, but I think baby Julian being mixed ruled out the same man.”

“So her ex was a bad guy and he’s still gone in the dust, and from all this could have ended up killing his own kid.” Pete surmised, looking over the other quadrants.

“That’s the most logical theory, but there’s more when you look at the other two cases here.” Chloe pulled Pete to the other end of the wall, the red push pin quadrant on the upper right. “The Donovan family, upper middle class and Carol Donovan was an employee at the Gotham branch of LuthorCorp. She and her wife and child were driving in the countryside when they crashed. Now, both Donovan parents died on the scene-“

“And they found Lex, why is that so hard to believe?” Pete asked.

“It’s not exactly a smoking gun, but there’s not a lot to actually support this story.” Chloe said, pulling down a photo from the story of the Donovan kid next to Lex in a hospital bed. “They couldn’t track down any family, both of his moms lost their parents and were only children. The only photos they could find of Alexander Donovan was before he was two. They didn’t find any photos of Alexander Kennedy at his home, there were no family photo albums and the elementary school caught fire in the electrical storm that night. They only had a rough sketch from teacher testimonies.”

Pete took the photo clipping from the news paper and looked at the goofy toddler smiling beside the sad seven year old with his head wrapped up in bandages and on a ventilator.

“Chloe, this… this is really concerning,” he said.

“I know!” She snatched the photo and put it back up, kneeling down to point along the green quadrant just below. “This is where I definitely start reaching, but it’s just as unsubstantiated as the Luthor’s story.”

“Chloe-“

“Two states over, the body of a little boy was discovered floating in the lake of a rural Ohio town.” She said, tapping furiously at an article. “This kid, he was completely skinned, Pete. There was no finger prints or birthmarks or teeth left to identify him with. This kid was found a week after the Donovan crash, half eaten by-“

“Chloe!” Pete grabbed her, trying to keep her attention away from the wall. “Chloe, you’re worrying me.”

“Pete, it’s finally making sense!” She yelled, trying to push him off. “I finally see it, it all makes sense!”

“You need to take care of yourself, Chloe!” He yelled back, finally getting her undivided attention.

“I’ll take care of myself when I crack this story. How can you not see they’re all connected?”

The way Chloe looked at Pete was so desperate and hopeful, a manic power behind it all as her jaw flexed pensively. Something deep within Pete broke seeing his long time friend reduced to this, wondering if he’d missed something over the weeks. He tried to be there for Chloe around their respective responsibilities after the attack. His mom had taken the time after everything came out to tell him how Chloe may react to the trauma, how she would need space but to make sure she knew she wasn’t alone. Now he saw how badly he’d been at making sure she was really okay.

“I don’t see it… but I want to.” Pete said, sighing. “Just please, please, take care of yourself, Chloe. Let me help you.”

“But-“

“Chloe, did you even sleep last night?” He asked. “When was your last meal?”

“I-I’m fine, I just need-“

“Chloe…”

They two looked at each other for a long moment, that nervous energy finally draining out of Chloe as she looked utterly drained. Slowly, she nodded and rubbed a hand over her eyes, mascara smearing under her eyes.

“Okay… Okay.” She finally said, taking a shaky breath as exhaustion took over.

Pete guided her to a seat and knelt in front of her.

“I’ll drive you home, you get some sleep and this weekend we can work together on this.” He said, rubbing a thumb over the back of Chloe’s hand.

“It’s almost there…” She whispered, taking a deep breath.

“We’ll find it together, I promise.”


	25. Chapter 25

Sunset came a little earlier again that weekend, rosy pink streaks still visible when Lex awoke in his four post bed. The thick curtains were still pulled closed as he detangled himself from the sheets and his boy toy from last night he picked up in Metropolis. There was already a glass of water and dish of iron pills and vitamin B the maid had left during the day as they slept.

Rarely did Lex enjoy mixing his dinner plans and pleasure, no one would want to fuck a steak while eating it, but sometimes it made things easier. People were a lot more willing to satisfy that hunting urge if they got some romance with their donation.

He listened for the young man to stir as he got dressed, quickly slipping out into the hall. Lex would have to leave instructions for him to be driven home upon waking. There was things that concerned Lex more than nursing another’s affections.

Minutes after waking, Lex was walking up to a new glossy, dark blue sports car as he threw his long jacket over his shoulders. He grabbed his driving gloves from the pocket before sliding into the drivers seat and leaning back. The address was across town and twenty minutes out, an unfortunate place for a medical practice to sit while the now five year old medical clinic was just between that and downtown. The road roared around Lex as his mind was singularly focused on pushing further ahead towards his first lead.

As he passed the hideously painted medical center just before the town limits, Lex prepared himself for what was coming. If he was lucky, he’d find a way to track down the next known address of the doctor. Worst case scenario, he was going to roll up to an empty lot that had previously been Dr. Hamilton’s residence. Both possibilities played in Lex’s mind as he rolled up to the dusty building. The neon sign in the window was dark and dust coated, painted sign over the door faded from the last decade of sun damage.

Lex parked a good twenty feet from the building before he got out and walked the perimeter of the property. It seemed a simple single door building, a window on the front wall and nowhere else. It was both incredibly smart and stupid, forcing Lex to enter the most predictable way. The door was locked, Lex didn’t even find that surprising as he twisted hard and heard the lock pop. It swung open for him as Lex stepped into the building and looked around. There was a worn down waiting room, the furniture dated and sagging, and an empty front desk with a single clipboard that laid empty.

Before he could look further, Lex turned around to a shot gun in his face. He chuckled, stepping back slowly as he raised his hands and looking of the good doctor. He looked just like his photo, an average build Black man with short locs and a pair of thin glasses perched on his nose. There was deep lines etched into his forehead and eyes compared to the previous photos.

“Dr. Hamilton?” Lex asked.

“Who sent you?” He snapped.

“Dr. Hamilton, I came on my own volition, but if there’s others you’re hiding from then you’ll want to hear my offer.”

The shotgun lowered as Dr. Hamilton looked over Lex. There was a momentary flinch before his posture tensed as he took a step back from Lex.

“Let me see your teeth,” he commanded.

Lex obliged and bared his fangs, closing his eyes against the flashlight beam suddenly in his face. It dropped and he blinked away the spots, noticing the little flashlight now hanging off the doctor’s belt.

“I once again must ask, who sent you?” He asked again.

“My name is Lex Luthor and I came for my own selfish reasons.” Lex said, hands still raised.

“Explain while I’m feeling generous, or else you can leave with some lead for your troubles.” Dr. Hamilton said, keeping the shotgun at the ready.

“I want your help with a scientific breakthrough no one in the human or vampire world thought possible.” He said. “A possible human and vampire hybrid.”

The doctor was silent as Lex explained himself, the corners of his mouth turned down as those deep lines across his forehead grew deeper. He was thinking hard before shaking his head.

“That’s impossible, I’d suggest you find your scientific pursuits outside of the television screen.” Dr. Hamilton said, giving a quick motion with the barrel of the gun towards the door. “Get out.”

“Doctor, this isn’t some half baked theory I’m asking your assistance to perform. I know a vampire, a real blood drinker, who lives his life in the sun.” Lex admitted, watching the way Dr. Hamilton’s face fell. “I know you’re under the radar, for good reason, and that’s why you’re the perfect man to join us in this. You were a great doctor before your practice went under.”

“Your flattery can only get you so far, Mr. Luthor.” Dr. Hamilton looked over Lex for a moment before motioning towards the door. “I’ll call you, but I want to verify your story. Who is this supposed hybrid?”

“No, we’re doing this on his terms and he wants to stay as anonymous as possible,” Lex said.

“Why do you expect me to do this without being able to verify your claims myself?”

“Faith.”

The doctor’s jaw tightened as he scrutinized Lex. The feeling of Dr. Hamilton’s gaze was like a skilled butcher sizing up a pig for the slaughter, categorizing and mentally disassembling him. It was a moment until he nodded, stepping back as he kept the gun ready. Lex returned the nod and slowly walked back towards the door, pushing it back and finally turning out towards his car.

The night was quiet and still outside as Lex made his way straight to the car. When he looked back at the building and got into his car, Dr. Hamilton was waiting just inside the door and watching him. He stood there and watched until the building was just a dot in the rearview mirror.

***

There wasn’t much Nixon could do now that he was cut off from his usual information channels, but he was determined. There was something weird happening in that little town, and he had a feeling getting more information on Metropolis United Charities would lead him to a gold mine.

The Smallville courthouse was very poorly secured, he barely had to jimmy the lock to get in. The building was dark as he gave the hall a once over and stepped in. The little flashlight Nixon only lit up a little at a time, only showing the immediate couple of feet in front of him. The courthouse had once been a church, before the storm of 1989 set the previous courthouse on fire. It was very obvious as Nixon crept to the front lobby of the building to see the large double doors on either end of the lobby that had once lead into one large room for sermon. Now, as he peeked into the lightly frosted windows, Nixon could see in the remodel they had separated it into two smaller courtrooms.

He headed down the hall down the other side of the courtrooms, listening closely before peeking into one of the offices. The first couple were just conference rooms, long tables surrounded by chairs. It was at the last two he couldn’t turn the knobs and got down in front of them. At the first one, Nixon popped the end of the flashlight between his teeth and pulled his picks out again. The first on inserted easily before he inserted the second and started tapping away. Every now and then, he would pause to listen for a security guard or approaching car before the lock finally popped.

Swinging the door open, Nixon stepped inside and shut the door behind him, letting the flashlight illuminate the aisles of records. Before anything could interrupt him, Nixon began scanning the records for anything with the name Kent on it. Elber, Foreman, Gilberts, so many useless names that told him nothing. No matter how many times he searched the K’s, he couldn’t find anything. With a deep breath, Nixon started packing it up and stuffed the Kent parent’s files into his bag.

That’s when he heard the first creak. It had been perfectly silent until then, the sudden sound drawing his attention back to the door. It was already dark in the hall, not like the lobby full of moonlight, but somehow the silhouette through the frosted window stood out like it glowed dark.

Nixon blinked, trying to focus on is as he lowered behind the filing cabinets lining each makeshift aisle. If it was a security guard, as he’d feared upon first breaking in, they’d leave in a moment. Several long moments passed as Nixon kept his eyes trained on that shape that didn’t seem to move. The thought ran through his mind that perhaps it was a trick his eyes were playing on him as began standing up before there was a snap and everything began fading away.


	26. Chapter 26

The world might as well rested on Clark’s shoulders, he felt so weighted down by his own worries. He’d tried so many times in a day tried to question his parents about his adoption, but no matter how Clark phrased the question it sounded antagonistic. They’d always been open about the fact that he was adopted, but this felt so much more precarious than simply acknowledging that fact.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Clark jumped, spinning around from the open window to see Lex standing at the top of the stairs to the loft. His heart hammered hard against his ribcage as Lex walked across the loft to him.

“You’re tense, what’s wrong?” He asked, slipping a blood bag from his jacket pocket and into Clark’s hand.

“Just a lot going on, you know.” He answered, popping open one of the tubes at the top of the bag and sipping.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come sooner. I’ve been trying to find someone who could help us and your situation.” Lex said, watching as Clark sat on the old couch covered in even older, sun faded blankets.

“Help us?” Clark asked, his brow knit together.

“I found a doctor who can look at you.” Lex explained, coming to sit beside him. “He’s as trustworthy as I can find right now, and we need a man of science on our side right now.”

“Wait, I… I don’t know how I feel about doctors, Lex,” Clark said.

“What do you mean?”

Taking several deep breaths, the few times Clark had been sick enough to go to the doctors played in his mind. The worry in his mothers eyes still made Clark’s blood run cold, the way they so quickly opposed needles when suggested on his account. He wasn’t a kid anymore, he knew it had been for his own protection that they didn’t allow any blood to be taken, but his skin still prickled and itched as panic pumped through his body.

“I don’t want to end up a lab rat, Lex.”

Lex turned quiet at the statement and took a deep breath. He watched as Clark took a hesitant sip from the blood back and nodded.

“Okay, no doctors right now.” He said, reluctantly. “Not until you’re ready.”

Clark tried to smile despite the pit growing in his stomach.

“How have you been feeling?” Lex asked.

“Fine. Those first couple days after feeding were…”

“Amazing, right?” Lex smirked as he watched Clark turn bashful and red.

“I didn’t realize I was that strong.” He said, chewing on his lower lip as he smiled.

“The first feed is always a rush. I promise not to take as long between deliveries again, you need to keep your strength up,” Lex said. “Every couple days, I can swing by with something or you can come feed at my place. Until you’re able to keep more of a stock at home.”

“About that…”

Lex wanted to scold the way Clark kept blocking his help at every turn but kept quiet, waiting patiently as he sorted out the words in his head. It was a long minute before he took a deep breath and turned back to Lex.

“It feels wrong doing this behind my parents backs, they’ve always been so afraid what drinking blood could turn me into.” He said, eyes cast down. “I think I want to tell them… But I’m afraid of how they’d… If…”

“Everyone has something they’re afraid to tell their parents, something they think would make their parents stop loving them. You may not know how they’ll react, but they’re your parents and it’s your decision if you tell them.”

“Even with how they’d react if they knew it was you supplying the blood?” Clark asked, finally peeking up through his thick lashes.

“I’m not a factor in your decision, Clark.” Lex said, his tone turned stern. “This is between you and them, no matter their feelings about me.”

That only seemed to make things more confusing for Clark, sighing before he began drinking the last of the pint. Leaning his head back on the couch, he closed his eyes and took several long breaths. The satisfied feeling as the blood filled him up was almost blissful, clearing his head of static.

“Even if they knew you were getting this blood ethically, they’d still have an issue?” Lex asked.

“I could see my dad still finding trouble with it, taking something meant for another persons survival.” Clark sighed. “Besides, he’s more steadfast against your family than anyone I know. I think the only reason he’s not making a big deal about it still is because he doesn’t want to fight with mom. If anyone is scarier than him angry, it’s mom.”

“Mom’s have that special skill.” Lex chuckled.

“Oh yeah, she does. Takes a lot to get her angry like that.”

It felt so strange talking about his family so casually with Lex, like they were old friends catching up. For once, Clark felt like he could be fully honest and there was a good chance Lex knew what he was talking about, could relate and guide him. It was the mentorship he’d always craved in a world where he felt so alone.

“Listen, whether you tell them or not, I’ll make sure you don’t go without blood unless you tell me not to.” Lex said after a pause. “And when you’re ready, I’ll teach you everything I can. There are things we can’t know without medical intervention, but until we hit that wall I’ll be here.”

“Thank you, Lex.” Clark said.

Lex took the now empty blood bag from Clark before patting his shoulder and disappearing from sight. There was a noticeable gap without him in the loft as Clark grew more comfortable having another vampire around. In a few days time, he reminded himself, they would see each other again and Clark could finally learn more about who he really was.

***

The week had felt so slow as Lana finally took a moment to relax in her bedroom. The night had been uncomfortably quiet as Aunt Nell asked her to help pack up a few boxes around the house. There was still several weeks the new home was being finalized, but Nell was certain that beginning the packing now was good for Lana. There was a definite end in sight as the first boxes were stacked in the living room, trinkets and decorations packed in newspaper and bubble wrap.

Finally in her room after, Lana threw herself into homework. For how hard her aunt leaned into the hard deadline of moving, Lana retreated further into the idea she still had time at school. There was a senior project to worry about, a family tree she started. Right now, it was more of her and her parents than anything. Aunt Nell would probably tell her to drop it, wait until she saw what the new school would be requiring to finish off her senior year.

But Lana didn’t want to drop it.

Since the idea popped into her mind, she knew it was a good idea. The Lang’s had been in Smallville for a long time, but beyond that she had no idea. She was the fourth generation in that town, and she wondered where else her roots spread.

The hours grew late as she poured over an old family album she pulled out of the bookcase downstairs when packing. She’d listed her paternal grandmother, Louise, and grandfather, Callum, but was yet to find anything of their parents in the contents of the book. Instead, she found years after years of photos documenting her father’s upbringing. She never realized how much she looked like the Lang’s until looking at her grandmother not much older than she was now, holding her bouncing baby boy tight.

There was a rustling that pulled Lana’s attention away, scanning the room around her. For a moment, she rubbed her eyes before looking at the foot over her bed. Her backpack was slumped forward on the floor from it’s position leaning against her bed. Lana watched the bag in confusion for a moment before walking over to right it. She returned to the vanity turned desk and began flipping through pages of the photo album again. Turning to the photo of her father’s second birthday, Lana noticed an elderly couple in the background of the photo. Leaning in, she could see a passing resemblance between them and her grandmother. It was as she focused on the pair hidden in the back of the photo that she heard that rustling sound again.

Turning back, the baby pink backpack was laying on it’s front again. For a moment, Lana sat and listened for anything moving around the house. Her logical mind told Lana she just hadn’t balanced the bag and it tipped over, but her gut still churned with nerves. She stood and walked over to the nightstand beside her bed, grabbing the now botched candle and fishing around the drawer for a lighter.

As soon as it was lit, Lana turned down the lights and set it on her nightstand. The room was quiet, so quiet Lana almost wondered if she was just being excitable.

“Hello? Are you there?” She said.

Scanning the dark room, Lana didn’t have a moment to react as she felt a sudden tap on her forehead and she collapsed through the bed. It felt like flying as Lana continued to plunge down, like her very core was made of light and air. It somehow simultaneously pulled her up as the rest of her descended, or maybe everything was just moving up faster and made it seem like she was falling.

Before Lana could puzzle that thought out, she was stood firmly on the ground again. No matter how much she blinked, nothing seemed to come into focus before a face began forming in the shadows. It felt almost like looking into a mirror as she focused on the features all together, a reflection dressed in scorched rags as soot smeared her tanned skin.

“You’re… the ghost?” Lana asked, the words seeming to reverberate through the air like water.

_Of course you’d think of me as some common spirit haunting this miserable town, you waste your power on such trivial drivel._

The words entered Lana’s mind as a sharp hiss, the rasping whisper grating on her mind like nails on a chalkboard. She flinched back before the face was up against her right side, a clap suddenly startling Lana.

_You waste the blood I granted you on such stupid things like pretty boys and worrying about a future you don’t even want, pathetic._

“Then what am I even supposed to do? I can barely make my own decisions, what do you even want from me?” She spat back, the face suddenly appearing in front of her and vibrating with intensity.

_Trust me._

Looking down, a blistered hand was held out to her. The charred and cracked skin of the fingers made Lana recoil before slowly reaching out and taking it.


	27. Chapter 27

Bright, golden light tinged Lana’s eyelids pink as she started to come to. It felt like they’d been glued shut, it was so hard to open her eyes. After several long minutes and rubbing the sleep from the corners, she finally pried them open and peered around the room. She was laid out on her bed, on top of the duvet as drenched in sweat as she tried to sit up.

It felt like forever as Lana slowly woke up, the grogginess of her strange dreams still holding her down. As soon as she finally swung her feet over the side and took a moment to stretch, she looked down at the clock on her nightstand. It was a half hour until her shift at the Beanery began.

“Oh shit!” She cried, jumping off the bed and running into her closet.

There was barely enough time for her to shower, instead Lana changed into something appropriate and ran to the bathroom. The black jeans and puff sleeve blouse were cute enough, she thought as she quickly layered on the deodorant and brushed her teeth. Throwing her hair into a banana clip, most of the late night funk had been banished and she felt somewhat fresher.

In minutes, she was pulling out of the driveway while taking a bite out of a muffin she swiped on the way out. She made it most of the way through the muffin top before she pulled up to the back of the shop and parked beside Zoe’s cherry red Mazda. As soon as she was through the backdoor and behind the counter, tying her apron, she was five minutes shy of being on time.

“Rough night?” Zoe asked, already squirting caramel into the bottom of a cup for Lana.

“You have no idea.” She said, signing her time sheet and taking a deep breath. “How’s it going?”

“Lunch crowd has been thin, tippers even thinner than that.” Zoe chuckled to herself before sighing as she pulled a double shot of espresso.

Lana sighed, sliding her hands into the pockets of her jeans before her fingers brushed over something cold and flat. She pulled out a shiny quarter, it’s silver head staring up at her. An image played out in her mind of her own small hand held in a charred and blackened hand as another placed the coin in the center of her palm. Cold chills ran down Lana’s spine before the iced caramel coffee was set in front of her, a clear plastic straw sticking out the top. Lana dropped the coin in the rainbow painted tip jar, the clear clang as it hit the other coins resonating through her chest. Zoe pulled her into a side hug, bumping her hip.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” She said, smiling.

“Thank _you_.” Lana replied, raising the coffee to her before taking a sip.

A half cup later and Lana set out about the coffee shop, retrieving left behind garbage and cups from tables. The normal routine of the day took over as she cleaned and got refills over the next hour. It took an hour before Zoe called her to the register to help out with the line forming, the later lunch crowd coming in quickly at last. Together, she manned the register and took orders while Zoe worked on the machine and slung out coffees and baked goods.

The line lightened up around one thirty before Lana could finally go around to continue cleaning. She was wiping down one of the corner tables, the only booth seat from the Beanery’s past life as a diner when she heard someone call her name. Turning around, she smiled as Chloe and Pete approached.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you in here in a minute,” she said.

“Been busy lately, with the paper and everything.” Chloe said, side stepping as Lana grabbed the dish bin from another table and stepped out of the corner.

“How have you always managed to run that thing on your own?” She asked, resting the side of the bin on her hip.

“Let’s just say unpaid internships are handed out liberally.” Pete quipped.

Lana laughed as Chloe gave him a jab in the side before waving goodbye and slipping into the back. The dishrack made a clatter as she laid it out and started stacking cups and little pastry plates in their slots before Zoe came bursting in.

“You are a saint, Lana!” She cheered, shaking the tip jar.

“What did I do this time?” Lana asked, sliding the rack into the industrial dishwasher and closing the door.

It whirred to life as the two walked back to the front counter. The shop was still a buzz with chatter as evening approached, but the incoming customers had slowed to a comfortable pace.

“We haven’t had a full tip jar in weeks, not until you gave it a little miracle.” Zoe said, winking.

Lana laughed, remembering the way that quarter glinted in the light before tossing it in the tip jar. She shrugged quickly and tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear.

“Hey, don’t thank me yet. Correlation not causation,” she said.

“Uh-huh, sure.” Zoe chuckled. “Or we have a genuine good luck charm on our hands.”

When one of the closing shift girls popped her head out of the back to say hi, Zoe grabbed the tip jar and started counting out the change. She handed Lana her cut of the tips before grabbing the timesheet to sign out, the quarter glinting up at her again. For a moment, the coin entranced Lana as it twinkled in the low light of evening. Before signing out, she picked up the shiny quarter and dropped it into the bottom of the tip jar again.


	28. Chapter 28

Monday went by as average as could be expected in the weird state Chloe had been put in. Even while she promised she wasn’t letting this story dominate every moment of her day, Pete worried how truthful she really was on that front. It wasn’t unlike Chloe to cover up what was bothering her, a bad habit that hadn’t been tempered by the stress of the last month.

“Okay, what is the actual proof, though?” Pete asked as he paced in front of the collage of presumably related cases.

“Well, there is none besides what we have up there,” Chloe said. “We have the sketch of Alexander Kennedy as a child from his teachers, but that’s rough at best. It would be better if we have some family to ID him.”

“Okay, then what family did he have besides his mom and brother?”

Chloe shrugged, picking at her nails. She rolled over to her desk and opened her notes in a document. She scrolled for a good minute before pausing to read. There was a long moment Chloe was struck silent, brows slowly inching their way up to her hairline.

“Chloe?” Pete walked over to peek at the screen when the office door swung open.

“Hey, Pete-“

Clark was frozen in the doorway of the Torch when Pete and Chloe looked up. Those usually distracted and bouncing eyes were locked onto the far wall over the office with perfect focus. Whatever he’d been coming to talk to them about, it was certainly no more important than the stalemate Chloe could see coming from a mile away.

“What is this?” Clark asked in a way that said he knew perfectly well what it was.

“Clark, wait, please let me explain.” Chloe said, jumping from her seat and running around to the wall.

Clark made it across the room in several short strides as Chloe ran, trying to intercept him before he got too close. She wished she’d had a chance to tell Clark how far the investigation had gone before, explain how things had changed, but his face said it was far too late for that. A terrible kind of disappointment filled her stomach before Chloe took a deep breath and cleared her throat. Clark finally looked down at her, his face a barely kept mask.

“I finally found the puzzle pieces to prove this theory, we just need to get a little help. Clark, there are huge holes in Lex’s backstory. I don’t have anything concrete to prove it yet, but we’re working on it.” She said, smiling over at Pete before turning sharply to Clark.

“Chloe, I don’t understand how you can keep pursuing this-“

“After what happened, _I know_.” She sighed, crossing her arms. “I don’t care, we can keep this under wraps. I promise no one is going to get hurt again.”

“You can’t promise that, Chloe.”

“None of us can,” Pete said. “But we can help each other. Look out for each other.”

Looking between the two, Clark couldn’t help but feel trapped. Trapped between his two best friends, the two people who’d stood by him as long as they’d known each other, and the man who promised to guide Clark through something Chloe and Pete could never understand. It felt invasive, it felt wrong.

“I know how bad this looks, but I’m not going after Lex. I… I want to help, if he is this kid. I don’t know why, but it’s not about my own journalistic pursuits anymore. This isn’t even about my senior project anymore!” Chloe cried, tears filling her pleading eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Clark had to look away as everything processed. He wanted to believe Chloe, he could almost believe Pete, but it still didn’t sit well.

“I can’t.” He said. “As long as you aren’t hurting Lex, I won’t stop you, but… please keep me out of it.”

Chloe and Pete’s faces fell, the utter disappointment plain to see. After a moment, Chloe nodded and blinked away the tears, turning back towards the wall.

“Okay.”

The smallness of Chloe’s usually booming voice hit Clark deep. Trying to keep some dignity in it all, he waved goodbye to Pete and quickly slipped back out of the office.

Chloe had been so sure Clark would help them, even after their fight. Yes, she’d overreacted before, but they’d always gotten over her outbursts eventually. It seemed like that time was over, that she’d pushed back a little too hard. A warm arm wrapped around her shoulders and squeezed, Pete’s voice a soothing distraction.

“Hey, it’s okay. He’s not gone forever.”

“Sure about that?” She asked, trying to force a smile.

“Of course.”

***

It was almost suffocating as Lana pushed through the stream of classmates heading to next period. She held tight to her locket, back around her neck as if it never left, the buffed metal growing warm in her palm. Over the days, it had almost become a comfort item in the last day after everything that happened the day before.

As she tried to move along the edges of the hallway, Lana was suddenly dragged from sight by her shoulder. The door slammed behind her, the room descending into darkness before she could hear a strong being pulled and the room lit up. It was a utility closet, the smell of stale water and disinfectants hanging in the air. As soon as Lana realized where she was, her head snapped to the much larger figure that grabbed her and shrank back.

“Whitney?”

“I’m sorry to scare you like that, I just didn’t know how else to get some alone time with you.” Whitney said, pushing back the mop of blond hair hanging around his face.

“Maybe try calling or saying hi, I am your girlfriend.” Lana snapped.

“Are you?” He asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Whitney sighed, turning over a big, orange bucket by the door and sitting down. As he clasped his hands tight and thought, his eyes stayed looking straight forward, barely acknowledging Lana as he spoke.

“I’ve tried, but it honestly feels like you’re avoiding me. I don’t know what I did wrong, but it’s like you won’t even give me the time of day,” he began. “Lana, I just wanted to make our last couple weeks together memorable, but you won’t even look at me.”

Everything in Lana froze as his words registered in her mind. Slowly, she let go of the warm locket and let it rest against her chest, kneeling down to meet those baby blue eyes. Once, that puppy dog look Whitney gave her now would have made her dissolve into butterflies and do whatever he said just to make him happy. Now, she barely noticed the way it warped with confusion and a little bit of fright as he finally looked at her.

“Our final what?”

The dawning realization of what he said hit Whitney like a truck as he suddenly started sputtering and backtracking.

“Wait, no, I mean final year of-“

“I never told you Aunt Nell was moving us to Metropolis.” She said. “How did you know these were my last weeks in Smallville?”

There was a moment of pause as Whitney absentmindedly ran a tongue over his bottom lip, an unconscious tick Lana had once found kind of cute. Now, it made her want to punch him.

“You know my mom and Nell tell each other everything.”

Lana let out a long breath as she stood, shaking off Whitney as he tried to grab her hand.

“Don’t!” She shouted, ignoring as he tried to shush her. “How long have you known?”

“I heard it from my mom a couple months ago,” he said.

“Months?!”

“Lana-“

Before he could try quelling her anger, Lana stepped over him and out the door. She went straight into the stream of students as everyone looked her way and gawked at Whitney following her. He tried to grab her arm again as the stream of students parted around them, some spectators finding spots to stop and watch the fight unfolding.

“Please, I called after my mom told me and Aunt Nell isn’t wrong. It’s a good idea for you to get out of here, see what else you can have besides Smallville. I’ll be at MetU next year, so it’s not like it’s goodbye.” He tried to explain, holding Lana in place by her small shoulders and rubbing his hands up and down.

There was so much about it all that was just wrong. Every word from her aunt and Whitney swirled in her mind as she tried coming to some kind of understanding. None of it made sense, none of it was right, she couldn’t stand how once again others were trying to dictate her choices.

“Fuck you, Whitney.” Lana spat with as much venom as she could muster. “Fuck you and fuck your goddamn high horse you rode in on. I can’t believe after all these years you still don’t understand what I even want, it’s always about your plan!”

“Lana-“

“No! I get to speak now!” She yelled.

The hall traffic had slowed to a near stop as kids turned to look and listen. Before everyone’s eyes, the once golden couple of Smallville eye was dissolving.

“I got my own car so you wouldn’t have to drive me around, you complain. I quit cheer to make my own life plan, you complain. Now I don’t want to leave and you complain? Why? Why?!” She laughed as Whitney tried to form words, gapping like a fish out of water. “You don’t even seem to notice or care that I haven’t been happy. You didn’t even ask if _I_ wanted to move, you just assumed it would be fine because we could live out your fantasy of being the high school sweethearts at university together. No, I don’t want that, Whitney! I don’t want you!”

The hall was dead silent as her final words rang out. There was an empty look behind Whitney’s eyes as the words sank in, like his spirit slowly drained out and there was no fight left. For the first time in a long time, Lana finally get sure. Without another word, she turned on her heels and started pushing by classmates as a chorus of whispers slowly rose through the air.

Lana and Whitney were over.


	29. Chapter 29

The afternoon sun was high in the sky as Clark pounded new fence posts along the edge of the Kent property. The day was weighting heavy on his mind. Every post he gripped between his hands went a little deeper than the last as he brought it up over his head and slammed down with all the force he could. It wasn’t until his attention was pulled back to the task at hand as he heard a familiar voice.

“Want to talk about it?”

Looking around, Clark turned to see his father. Arms crossed over his chest, downy blond hair weighted down by sweat, Jonathan Kent watched his son as the posts descended in height. Clark looked over his work and sighed, pulling off his work gloves and tucking them in his back pocket.

“It’s… it’s Lex,” he said. “I mean, not like… It’s Chloe, about Lex.”

Jonathan raised a brow at that before Clark sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It… Chloe’s senior project was about the Kennedy kidnapping.”

“She really knows how to stick her nose where it’s not wanted.” Jonathan said, shaking his head. “She believes that crackpot theory the Kennedy’s doctor spread around?”

Clark nodded slowly. The two shared a look before Jonathan motioned for him to follow. They started walking across the pasture towards the red truck, lumber laying out the back.

“So, what are you really worried about with this?” He asked. “That she’s going to find out Lex’s secret or yours?”

“Both, I guess.” Clark sighed, shoving his hands deep in his jacket pockets. “I know she’s not… she’s not trying to expose Lex if it is true, she’s trying to help. But it feels like there’s something she isn’t telling me. Even Pete got roped in, he thinks there’s something sketchy going on and…”

“And?”

Clark stopped, meeting his father’s eyes as he stopped and turned to look at him.

“I don’t think they’re wrong.” He admitted, quickly looking away and running a hand through his messy hair. “I mean, I don’t… I don’t think they’re totally right, it feels so wrong to look into his past behind his back like that. But part of me feels like I should be helping them. Not just to keep them out of trouble, but to maybe help Lex.”

For a while, the only sound was the cold breeze blowing across the grassy field. Jonathan nodded slowly, letting his gaze wander across the property before he started walking back to the truck. Clark jogged to catch up before falling in stride.

“You know, when we got you, all Martha and I could hope is we were able to raise you well. We wanted to make sure you had a good childhood, that you grew up knowing right from wrong and be a good person.” He said, approaching the open truck bed and pulling out planks.

Clark took them without a word, stacking them over his shoulder.

“I can’t say much about Lex, you know my feelings about him and the Luthor’s. But… you know where I stand on privacy and respecting other people’s right to it. You’re a young man now, Clark, and if you can’t come to your own conclusions after what your mother and I taught you, then we didn’t do our jobs right.”

The knot in Clark’s stomach that had only grown tighter over the afternoon finally loosened as he listened to his father. He nodded, giving him a half smile.

“Thanks, dad.”

“Come on, let’s get this fence finished.”

With a pat on the shoulder, the two continued unloading the lumber. The air felt a little clearer after Jonathan finally acknowledged Lex, acknowledged is own distain for the Luthor’s and his own morals. Clark wondered if it was a sign, a sign that eventually he could tell his father what he and Lex were doing.

***

The sunset on Smallville as it’s people settled in for the evening around the dinner table. As everyone found their peace with the day, settling in for the long night, Lex woke. Curiosity was what drove him, pushed Lex from his home and following his path back out to the run down facility outside the town limits. The tire tracks from his previous visit were the only sign of life in the desolate landscape, making him wonder how Dr. Hamilton got his supplies and sustenance.

Walking up to the building, he saw the door had been repaired. Not wanting to cause more damage to the man he hoped to become an ally, Lex gave a quick knock and stepped back from the door. It was a long moment before the knob jiggled and door slowly creaked open. The barrel of a shotgun was aimed out, gleaming in what little light the moon provided.

“I come in peace.” Lex said, holding up his hands.

Dr. Hamilton looked a little more put together than before. An old bowling shirt hung open over a white shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His glasses hung on a chain around his neck as he trained the barrel on Lex and slowly stepped back.

Lex entered, closing the door behind himself and not making any sudden movements in the process.

“So, where’s this hybrid?” Dr. Hamilton asked.

“He won’t be joining us for a while, the kid’s freaked out about doctors still,” Lex said. “Please, Doctor, put the gun away.”

“Not until I’m sure you’re not going to pull any funny business.”

“Really, Dr. Hamilton?” Lex sighed. “I’m here for your services, not your life.”

“And I’ll trust a Luthor when hell freezes over.”

Lex laughed, hands still held in plain view.

“Didn’t I say this would be a practice of faith?” He said.

The doctor seemed to find this entertaining, scoffing. For once being the town physician, he seemed so paranoid and jumpy, hands quivering as he watched Lex. The last sixteen years had been anything but kind to him. A glint in the moonlight pulled Lex’s attention to Dr. Hamilton’s left hand before it was obscured again in shadow.

“As a show of my own faith in your skill, I’d like to offer myself as a control in our studies together.” Lex said, slowly pulling off his leather driving gloves and holding them in one hand. “We’ll still need a human subject, but I think comparing Clark to a vampire specimen would tell us more than the obvious.”

The two watched each other, the offer processing in Dr. Hamilton’s mind. Eventually, he motioned with the barrel of the gun towards the door behind the receptionist counter. Lex moved first, walking through the door.

There was a short hall with three doors; one to his immediate left, another down and to the right, and one at the very end. The one at the end had an electronic keypad that blinked red. This piqued Lex’s curiosity as he slowly walked down the hall.

“Turn.” Dr. Hamilton said as Lex approached the last two doors.

Entering the door to his right, he stepped into an average examination room. The light above was dim and flickered annoyingly as Lex took a seat on the examination table. Dr. Hamilton didn’t follow him immediately. After a minute, he entered with a basket of medical equipment and a lamp in hand. He set the lamp on the counter, plugging it in, and started unloading his haul. Lex was happy to notice the lack of firearms finally.

“Don’t get too comfortable, yet.” The doctor said, quickly flicking on the lamp.

Despite it pointing to the counter, as soon as the light flicked on Lex recoiled to the corner of the room. A feral hiss left him as his lips curled back in a snarl, the natural instinct to hide taking over as the UV light glowed.

“I’m not an idiot, Mr. Luthor. I won’t lock myself in a small room with a vampire unarmed.” He said, chuckling as he slipped on rubber gloves. “Please roll up your sleeve.”

From his corner, Lex scowled at the doctor while shirking off his jacket. It was a long moment of eyeing the lamp before he finally took a seat again on the examination table and rolled up his sleeve. Dr. Hamilton probed at his inner arm before swabbing over it with an alcohol soaked cotton ball and inserted the needle.

Instantly, a wave of nausea and anxiety washed over Lex. It was like he was being spun in a rock tumbler, knocking into other things in his mind as the feeling played over and over again. Pokes and prods and suddenly he was being strapped down. Panic rose and drowned Lex as he struggled against the straps, trying to reach for the horrible needles inserted over and over again.

“Mr. Luthor?” A voice called through the fog, muffled from behind a thick wall of cotton. “Mr. Luthor, can you hear me?”

Blinking slowly, the feeling passed and the room around Lex came back into focus. The worn face of Dr. Hamilton hovered above, pinched at the brow and full of concern. There was something comforting about the way the doctor pressed a warm hand against his chest while helping him up, an almost familiar sense of safety washing over him. It was almost funny to Lex, it was the first time he could remember that feeling.

“Has that ever happened to you before?” He asked.

“No, not that I can remember.” Lex said, running a hand over his smooth head.

Dr. Hamilton looked over him for a moment before stepping to the counter and scribbling on a clipboard Lex hadn’t noticed before.

“What about medical conditions before you were turned?” He asked.

“I had asthma as a kid.”

The scribbling continued as Lex flexed his fist, taking a comforting breath before daring to look at his arm. The sleeve had been pulled back down but not buttoned back into place. He knew any bruising or pin prick was already gone, but the phantom sensation of the needle under his skin still remained. It churned his stomach like the first time he went binge drinking with classmates in high school, uncomfortably close to spilling his guts on the floor.

“I’ve never seen a vampire faint before, didn’t even realize that was possible.” Dr. Hamilton said, looking up at Lex. “When were you turned?”

“Last year.”

There was a noticeable pause before the doctor continued his scribbling and set the clipboard down. His face was still pinched and unmoved as he started securing the arm cuff around Lex’s bicep and started pumping.

“I was born in 1982.” Lex said as his heartrate was taken. “I know you have questions. I have my own.”

“Then ask them.”

“How do you know about vampires?”

This made Dr. Hamilton pause in his writing, dark eyes flicking up at Lex. They watched each other, assessing and curious before he took a deep breath and sat on a wheeled stool.

“How much do you know about the Smallville branch of LuthorCorp?” He asked.

“The one I run?” Lex chuckled. “Only as much as my father allows.”

The mention of his father finally made the doctor twitch, the corners of his mouth turning down for a moment before returning to an impassive line.

“And that’s how it’s always been in the public eye.” Dr. Hamilton explained. “When it opened in the seventies, we were told it was a fertilizer plant. That’s still want they claim it to be. No one has seen an ounce of fertilizer come in or out of that place. But other things have.”

“Like?”

“Monsters.”

“Well, anyone could have predicted that.” Lex chuckled, his short fangs gleaming. “You need to be a little more specific.”

“These monsters were anything but natural, in the way you or your sire are.” Dr. Hamilton continued, fiddling with the ring Lex now saw clearly on his left hand. “Sometimes people disappeared from surrounding counties, at risk kids and bums. No one who would be really missed. Then the storm of 1989 happened.”

“What is it about that year? I swear, everyone is so obsessed with the eighties.” Lex quipped.

“There was multiple murders during that storm. One of them, a kid disappeared. Everyone thought he was dead.”

“The kidnapping of Alexander Kennedy.”

Dr. Hamilton’s gaze snapped back to Lex, now smooth and completely impassive.

“I’m assuming your knowledge on the subject is why you recruited me for this little experiment.” He said.

“Who’s more trust worthy than someone with no social standing.” Lex said, reflecting Dr. Hamilton’s impassive expression. “I’m guessing you lost someone that night.”

Looking back at his ring, Dr. Hamilton nodded.

“Spouse?”

“Fiancée.” He said, the word catching in his throat before he coughed. “She was one of the casualties that night.”

“My condolences.”

Lex didn’t like the way Dr. Hamilton looked at him, it was a look he’d never seen on someone before. It reminded him of the look Clark got when talking about telling his parents about their deal, but so much sadder. Conflicted, confused, and something else he couldn’t describe. Something he didn’t want to see.

Looking away, he buttoned his sleeve cuff again and grabbed his long jacket before slipping off the examination table.

“I think that’s enough for tonight. I’ll contact you.” Lex said quickly, slipping out the door and closing it behind him.

For a split second, he paused, leaning against the door. He focused his ears, listening as he heard the click of the lamp turning off and Dr. Hamilton letting out a shaky sigh. It was after he heard the sniffling begin that Lex decided he was done and sped through the compound to his car. It would be a long time before he returned, a long time before he let the man look at Clark.


	30. Chapter 30

There was many thing to call Clark Kent, and avoidant was rarely one of them. The next morning, sitting at his window sill as the sun came up, he desperately wished he could fake sick to stay home. Never being sick day in his life, Clark doubted his parents would buy it without some serious worry. No, there was no getting out of school and seeing his friends. There was no getting out of having to face Chloe and Pete and say his piece, no matter how they felt on the matter.

Thinking over what his father had said the previous afternoon, and knowing what he did about Lex, he couldn't let this get out of hand. Clark's feelings were still a mess of conflict and anxiety. His feelings about Lex only got more conflicted every time they talked, finding comfort in having someone as committed to figuring out what he was but confusion in why he should even trust him. Why he _did_ trust him.

Until then, Clark had cited how easily Lex revealed himself as a vampire, but the more he thought about it the less sense that even made. Lex had admitted his own suspicion of Clark's true nature, it was a better gamble than Clark had been making. The truth, the more he thought about it, was how much Lex made him feel safe. It was the same ease he'd felt around Lana after he'd started drinking blood, like he could move freely without worry. Like he could relax for once in his life. That's what made Clark trust Lex.

Taking a deep breath, he got ready for school with the certainty of his own feelings. After making his way through the house to collect his things, Clark waited at the stop until the school bus came by for him. Unsurprisingly, Pete and Chloe weren't there. A pit started in Clark's stomach then as he realized they'd probably taken Pete's car to school, that Chloe was avoiding him for the time being.

Until they arrived at school, Clark had to keep reminding himself that it made sense after how he reacted. The ball was in his court to make up for what happened.

The day went by at an excruciatingly slow pace as Clark tried to find the best time to stop his friends. They weren't at the usual meeting place before the first bell, standing at the gate entrance they'd always waited at. There was a moment Clark swore he saw the back of their heads disappearing into a large crowd of kids entering the school, but he couldn't be sure. They didn't seem to pay attention to him in their shared classes. In history, Chloe was as attentive and talkative as always, but sat two desks ahead of usual. This left Clark alone in the middle of the class, swimming in anonymity among his classmates.

At least in PE, Pete did meet his eyes a couple times while they played on the same basketball team. The first time was when he passed the ball to Clark in the heat of the game. The second time was as everyone made their way out of the changing rooms to lunch. He quickly disappeared in the crowd after that.

Part of Clark felt like he deserved the silent treatment for how he'd reacted to Chloe, but it still hurt. He couldn't think of a time they'd all been so distant, any time their rifts hadn't been resolved with a few days of awkwardly sitting around the lunch table hadn't fixed. Usually, someone would need to copy an assignment to finally break the silence before they were back to laughing and playing as usual.

This time, Clark was alone at lunch. He waited at the front gate to see if they were heading to the parking lot to eat, watching his classmates stream out and go on their own ways. Neither made a show.

The anxiety was getting to Clark at that point, making his stomach far too tight to get any food down. He found a quiet place to sit in the back of the school between the football field and maintenance sheds. With the October weather growing colder and blustery, he was completely alone at the small collection of picnic tables.

Dropping his backpack, Clark took a set and pulled out his water bottle and sipped at the coconut water. While it still wasn't as satisfying as blood, it did far more for him now between Lex's deliveries than it ever had before.

“Clark?”

He jumped at the voice, turning to see Lana standing feet away. The soft breeze blew tendrils of dark hair around her face, her beautiful, dark eyes squinting against the afternoon sun. She gave him a small smile and hesitantly stepped forward before tucking some of the hair behind her ear.

“Hey, I didn't mean to startle you,” she said. “Can I sit with you?”

“Of course.”

That little smile grew and Clark felt his heart begin to beat faster. He shouldn't have invited her over between his nerves and the several days since his last blood pack. There was a stronger gust of wind as she approached, sending a wave of strong scent in Clark's direction.

Lana might as well have punched Clark in the gut he felt so stunned as weak as the scent washed over him. Warm nutmeg and cinnamon, a myriad of spices and blood filled his nose with a strength it hadn't since the first days of school. Even with the last remnants of donor blood in his system, it made Clark's head spin and mouth water. The ache in his gums was back in full force as his face fell into his hands and tried to refocus himself.

“Clark, what's wrong?” Lana asked, hurrying to his side.

She crouched beside him, a warm hand placed firmly on his upper back as the scent became overpowering then. It was as if she'd opened up her palm to him again and forced him to breath it deeply. Clark tried to hold his breath, shaking his head back and forth before his arm shot out. He heard Lana's yelp before he was off, running at full force from that spot.

The smell stayed in his nose and throat, mingling in all his senses as he ran down the back roads of Smallville. He ran on instinct, pushing through the impulse to go back and finally taste Lana. Just when they'd finally gotten comfortable around each other, just when Clark could finally say he was close with Lana at last, her scent had grown overwhelming again. Clark needed someone to help, someone who would understand. Lex was asleep still, but Clark had nowhere else to go.

As soon as he was down the wooded road to the manor, Clark started burning out. His things were back at school, his water still on the picnic table. Slowing to a human pace, Clark could only curse himself for reacting so impulsively and running the way he did. He hadn't been holding back when he pushed Lana away, unaware of everything around him except the smell.

By the time he reached the gate, Clark was exhausted as his fingers finally curled around the iron bars separating him from Lex. He took deep breaths, leaning his forehead against the cold metal as spots started appearing in his vision. The dryness of his mouth and tongue was worse than if he'd run mouth open down the dusty, country roads. The spots started growing steadily until soon it was all Clark could see, dropping to his knees as he kept a tight grip on the gate, trying to get a few words out before everything went black.

***

After school was about as tedious as it got for Chloe, bustling alone around the Torch office and putting the final touches on the next issue while the little voice in the back of her mind mulled over the finer details of her personal projects. It sucked trying to get it all done without either of her boys to help. Normally, while Pete was working on his senior project, she would have asked Clark.

With a heavy sigh, Chloe fell into her desk chair and let her face fall into her hands. There was a shaky breath as she took it all in, tried to understand exactly how she ended up alone far sooner than she'd expected. It was a given that Clark and Pete wouldn't have been there forever, that was just life, but Chloe always assumed they'd have had that last year together. A last hurrah to their friendship.

A sharp knock in the doorway pulled Chloe out of her spiral.

“Hey, can I- oh, I'm sorry, I can come back.”

Looking over to the open door, Chloe saw Lana standing there awkwardly, holding a backpack. Clark's backpack.

“No, it's fine, just needed a moment.” Chloe said, standing quickly. “What's up?”

“Well, it's just-” Lana looked over her shoulder before clearing her throat, fidgeting in place as she kept talking. “You know, it doesn't really matter. Clark just... left I think? I was going to take this to the office but figured this was a better place, you know.”

“Wait, Clark left?” Chloe asked, taking the bag.

“Yeah, it was... Is he okay? Clark's been really different lately.”

“I'd love to have some answers to that myself,” Chloe laughed. “You'd be better off asking him yourself, but I doubt any of us are going to ever get a straight answer out of him.”

“So he's always like that?” Lana asked, her posture relaxing as she followed Chloe into the office.

“Oh, you have no idea. We can never get anything out of him, it's always a vague 'because I said so' answer,” Chloe snorted, offering Lana an office chair as she sat in her own. “What happened this time?”

“Well... I saw him sitting at a picnic table behind the school, I went over to say hi and he just started getting weird. Looked like he was going to be sick.”

“What like that look like he just smelled something nasty and looked straight into the sun?”

“That is so specific, but yes.” Lana said, giving Chloe a once over as she continued on. “Well, I went over to see what was wrong and he just... pushed me over and disappeared.”

“Wait, he ran away? Where did he go?” Chloe perked up, her brow wrinkling up with worry.

“No, you don't get it. He _disappeared._ ” She said, leaning closer. “One moment I'm trying to help Clark out and the next I was on the ground and he wasn't there. I can't explain it, Chloe.”

Neither could she. It wasn't that odd for Clark to just wander off, he always did it to Pete and Chloe, but he never phased out of existence. Chloe leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath, looking over the generic backpack.

“I don't know what to say.” She admitted.

The girls locked eyes for a moment, a moment passing between them. They both had the same questions, questions that Chloe had considered a lot longer than Lana. Neither knew how to even get into those questions considering what they could imply. Neither was willing to totally admit what theories there were considering each other's own experiences. But in that moment, each could accept that silent treaty together.

“My dad has the car today, any chance I could get a ride to the Kent's?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah, sure, I was heading in that direction anyways.”

Quickly, Chloe did a sweep of the office and grabbing her own bag on the way out before she and Lana were on the way out. The walk out to the car was quiet but strangely void of an awkwardness Chloe would have expected around the life long crush of her best friend. Lana was actually pretty cool, all things considered.

Since moving to Smallville, Chloe was always under the impression Lana had everything handed to her on a platter because she was just so pretty and amazing. That was true, but in the last few weeks she'd seen a lot that proved it wasn't everything about her. Chloe never expected a real brain in the popular cheerleaders head.

“Hey, how are you doing, by the way?” She asked, holding open the door for Lana.

“Uh, fine.” Lana said, smiling awkwardly.

“Just fine?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” She asked.

“Maybe because of what happened with Whitney.” Chloe said, offering a smile. “He deserved that, sounds like he's been a real dick.”

“God, you really have no idea.” Lana said, groaning as she ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. “He really found out about the move before me and said nothing because it worked out in his favor to have me in Metropolis.”

“What a pig,” Chloe laughed. “When do you turn eighteen?”

“Last month, it's what makes this all most tragic. I have every right to do what I want but can't support myself on a barista's wages, so I'm losing it all to my aunt's whims.” She said, walking up to the drivers side door of her car.

“Hey, cheer up, things usually work out in your favor.” Chloe said, opening the passenger door. “It's like someone's watching out for you.”

“Really?” Lana asked.

“Yeah, I mean, everything comes in clutch for Lana Lang.”

There was a noticeable pause in the conversation as the two got into the car and settled in. Chloe set Clark's bag at her feet as she held her own to her chest, beginning to wonder about Lana's story. If pressed, she would admit how Clark just wandered away so quietly was very unnerving. It had been one of his many talents along with a great catch and always being the first to pull someone just out of running into someone without looking. He was fast, no doubt about it, but he couldn't be _that_ fast.

“You know, if there is someone looking out for me, I hope they can help out with this whole move.” Lana said wistfully as the car pulled out onto the road.

“Think your guardian angel can move a couple boxes?” Chloe quipped.

“Or get me a better job and an apartment.” She sighed, trying to keep her eyes on the road as she felt an uncomfortable warmth coming from her pants pocket, her lucky quarter tucked away.

“A better job?” Chloe repeated, mind wandering. “Hey, doesn't the Talon have an apartment over it?”

Lana's brow furrowed at mention of the Talon, stories coming back to her from childhood. All she could remember off the top of her head is that Aunt Nell and her mother went there every weekend to watch the cheap shows and meet boys. That's where she met Lana's father after he came home from college. Her eyes stung at the memory, heart tensing.

“Yeah, I think so. I haven't been in since it shut down when we were kids.” She said, pulling into the driveway up to her aunt's house.

“Thanks, I owe you.” Chloe said, unbuckling before she was out of the car with her things.

“It's nothing. See you later?” Lana asked as she got out.

“Yeah, definitely.”

The two waved with a smile as Chloe started her way over the property line between the Lang and Kent homes. Her head was kept low the whole walk, keeping a vigilant eye out for cow patties. When she reached the fence, her head snapped up to see Mrs. Kent standing on the back porch and shading her eyes against the sun as she watched. Chloe loaded up her best smile and shot it at Mrs. Kent from across the yard as she started waving.

“Hi!” She called, opening the gate and doing a quick look around for an approaching animals before hurrying through and latching it behind herself.

“It's good to see you, Chloe.” Martha called, walking down the backstairs and meeting her halfway. “Clark isn't home yet. How can I help you?”

“He isn't?” Chloe's brow furrowed as she squinted against the light. “Well, uh, wherever he is, he left his bag at school. How has he been doing lately? Like, with... everything?”

She handed over the backpack to Mrs. Kent, who seemed surprised at the weight of the bag.

“Everything?” She asked, blinking for a moment.

“I don't know if it's as obvious at home, but Clark's been... kind of off, hasn't been talking to Pete and I about what's bothering him. I wasn't sure if he was on new medication or something for his blood disease.” Chloe explained, eyes focused on the way Martha's face turned from confusion to surprise.

“Oh, yes, that.” Martha said, giving a convincing sigh. “It's just stress, you know. Trying to decide where he's going for school and what he's doing. He'll be his old self again in no time.”

Nodding, Chloe took in the statement with smile intact.

“Well, can you ask him to call me? I have some school stuff I need to talk to him about.”

“Of course.” The two waved at each other as Chloe started to turn away. “Oh, Chloe, how are you doing? I haven't seen you since the accident.”

“I'm... fine. Still walking.” She said, her smile turning tight at the corners as she turned back to Martha. “Have a good afternoon, Mrs. Kent.”

“You, too, Chloe.”

Turning away, Chloe let her smile fall and process everything as she walked up the Kent driveway. She had a good walk home, but part of her was looking forward to the prolonged quiet as she thought over the short talk with Mrs. Kent again and again.


	31. Chapter 31

It was a slow return to consciousness as Clark became aware of his surroundings. It was warm and soft, a soft smell like sandalwood wafting through his nose. The room was perfectly quiet except Clark's breathing, slow and steady. After a minute, he was sure he was alone and slowly opened his eyes.

“Oh, thank god,”

Clark jumped at the sudden voice, sitting straight up and turning in it's direction. To his right, a plush chair had been pulled closer to the bedside. Sat in it's red cushion's was Lex. His face was twisted up as he watched Clark, quickly standing and moving to the bedside as he grabbed a cup from the nightstand.

“Hey, calm down, drink.” He said, placing the disposable cup in Clark's hands. “My staff found you passed out at the gate this afternoon. What happened?”

“I... I almost lost it, Lex. I almost ate Lana again.” Clark said, barely paying any mind to the cup despite the strong iron smell it emanated. “I thought I was under control now, you said drinking blood would keep me under control more. But just a day without it and I almost jumped her!”

Lex could only respond to all the strong feelings Clark projected by slowly guiding the cup in his hand up to his mouth and making his take a few sips. Everything started to calm as Clark got some blood in him, eventually taking a moment between gasping breaths to chug. Red streaks settled between his teeth as he took several deep breaths, finally calming to the point he could look Lex in the eyes.

“I don't know what I did wrong, it was so overwhelming.” He said, a deep pity still plain on his face.

It was almost heartbreaking to see how quickly Clark took on the blame for his own hunger. Lex didn't know what to do to subdue the guilt he knew gnawed at him now, only taking the empty cup from Clark and squeezing his upper arm.

“Hey, can you look at me?” He asked, trying to keep Clark's attention. “This isn't your fault. We talked about how this is natural, it is not something to feel bad about unless you're going out of your way to hurt someone. Understand?”

For a quiet moment, Clark just pouted to himself, peeking up at Lex every once in a while. It wasn't too long ago that Lex had been a moody and dramatic teenager himself, he knew the instinct to catastrophize whatever had his attention at the moment. Going through the hells of puberty _and_ a prolonged change was something he hoped Clark would be able to recover from, eventually. Until then, it was up to him to try and help mediate.

“Yeah, I... I understand.” Clark said, taking a deep breath.

“Clark, can you explain what happened today, calmer this time?”

After another moment, Clark nodded and tried to really pull everything together.

“I was hanging out alone outside at lunch, Lana came over and when that breeze... She just smelled so much stronger than she normally does, especially compared to after I started drinking blood.” He said, pausing to collect his thoughts as he bit the inside of his lower lip.

Clark was really trying to focus for Lex, but the more aware of the situation he was the harder it was to focus. Firstly, he was still dressed while he laid in what he hoped was a guest bed, his jacket and boots feet away on a spare chair. Secondly, he didn't know how long Lex had been waiting there for him to wake up. Had he been there all night or had he just happened to come in at the right time? The last thing that was bothering Clark so much was the sheer intimacy they were sharing in that moment. Lex's cool hand still laid on his arm, naturally leaning in and focused on every word Clark said after worrying over his health and safety. He was a calming presence in every meeting they'd had, someone Clark felt like he could talk about the scary parts of his life with, but now he made him nervous and bashful.

“And does that happen often with Lana? Or other people?” Lex asked, his head tilting just so in curiosity.

Clark nodded quickly, beginning to feel like Lex was getting at something but not seeing the full picture.

“How often?”

“I don't know, but it always just... what?” Clark asked, noticing the way Lex watched him.

His face felt warm under Lex's gaze, unable to keep eye contact much longer. It was hard to focus with that twinkle in Lex's grey eyes focused on him.

“It's completely normal, it's just something you have to get used to.” He said, standing from the bed. “Are you still hungry?”

Clark shook his head.

“Okay, when you're ready I'll drive you home,” Lex said.

“Promise you won't drive off another bridge?” Clark asked, the hint of a smile across his lips.

The two shared a look, a snort of laughter escaping Lex as he shook his head.

“Real proud of that, aren't you?” He asked, unable to hide his amused smile.

Clark just shrugged as he stood from the bed and grabbed his shoes and jacket from the other chair.

There was a moment of privacy as Clark got straightened up and Lex went to wait in his study. After getting his boots back on, Clark stepped into the attached bathroom and splashed cold water on his still warm face. The kid reflecting back at Clark looked scared, a little confused. Perhaps more than a little confused. There was a feeling he struggled to put words to, it was like he was full of helium and could just float away. It was happy, too. He could trace the feeling back to his days in elementary school when meeting Pete and Lana for the first times.

A pit of anxiety opened up in Clark's stomach as he placed the feeling, making him try to shake away the thought. With another splash of much colder water in his face, Clark took several deep breaths before patting his face dry with a hand towel and walking out.

It was a little confusing at first as Clark realized he didn't recognize any of the halls he stood in. It was decorated like an old Scottish manor, old artifacts scattered about the place. It was several long minutes of wandering around halls that looked all so similar before Clark came upon a large, stained glass display.

Covering most of the lower right half was the great form of a green dragon. Flames sputtered from it's wide nostrils and slightly ajar mouth, licking between each sharp tooth. It was coiled upon itself, muscles tight to lunge up at it's prey. Standing over the dragon was a night on rearing horseback. The white stallion looked ready to trample anything that crossed it's path, eyes wide and glassy. On it's back was a knight haloed in yellow. The lance in his hand was drawn back and ready to pierce the scaly hide of the dragon.

A chill ran down Clark's back as he slowly walked by, keeping a hand on the staircase railing. Looking from the dragon to the knight, Clark felt the hair on the back of his neck go on end. Something about the window felt wrong in such a profoundly unnerving way.

A tickle of air by Clark's ear made him jump, head whipping around the area. Of course, he was totally alone. There was no one in sight but the empty set of armor at the bottom of the stairs. It was nothing, Clark reminded himself, just a window in a drafty manor.

Each step down from the window creaked loudly under Clark's feel, echoing in the open hallway. As soon as he reached the bottom step, Clark started off quickly down a different hall. He still didn't recognize any halls, but he could hear the whisper of voices not far off. He followed the voices until things started to finally look familiar and the voice became clear enough to understand.

“Of course, Mrs. Kent.” Lex said before there was a long pause.

Clark tried to be as quiet as possible as he walked closer to the study door. It was halfway from the corner to the door that Clark no longer felt confident in his abilities to stay totally silent and just leaned against the wall, taking a slow breath as focusing his ears.

“He's shaken but okay, I promise. I think he'd more scared than anything.” Lex continued with a sigh. “I hope you and your husband understand I've never meant to get between you and Clark when it comes to this. It's a terrible thing to go through these changes without someone who knows what it's like.”

Clark felt uneasy at how Lex and his mother were speaking behind his back, it was almost like listening in on the principal calling his parents. There was a moment where he tried to focus on his mother's response but couldn't hear much more than a static whisper. After a while, Lex said his goodbyes and flipped closed his phone. He sighed and walked around before Clark could hear him sitting on the leather couch.

With as much confidence as he could muster, Clark took a deep breath and walked to the door, looking in to see Lex focused on the fire crackling just feel away.

“Hey,” Clark said.

“How are you feeling?” Lex asked, turning to smile at him.

“Uh, better.” He said, not sure how much of a fib that really was.

“You heard me talking to your parents.”

Clark nodded slowly and took a seat across from Lex.

“I'm... not sure how this will end up going over.” He admitted. “My dad is a chill guy, but he sure as hell doesn't like you.”

“It's not surprising. My father is a ruthless business man, many of his sins have been passed down. I don't think there isn't a place he tried to buy out that would welcome me with open arms.”

“Your dad... did he... you know?”

Clark found his eyes running along the smooth skin of Lex's exposed neck until he felt Lex's own attention turned on him. Their eyes met for a split moment before Clark turned his attention to the fire. It was a useful distraction while things stirred in Clark's chest, a warm flush running up his neck.

“He did change me.” Lex admitted. “My father has ideas about the world, but even he knows he doesn't have forever. We may not age, but vampires can die as easily as a human. Stake, sunlight, someone who's particularly motivated. He wanted an heir to carry on his work after he's gone.”

“That's kind of morbid.” Clark said.

“It's honest.” Lex said, trying to catch Clark's eyes with his own. “Clark, I want you to understand you aren't made of steel, you're not invulnerable. The more we work together, the stronger you'll get, but that doesn't mean you can't get hurt.”

“I know, Lex.” Clark said, putting everything he had behind his words. “I've had to struggle with my own weakness every day of my life. Because one slip up, one hint that I'm not entirely like everyone else, and everyone in that town will have their pitchforks ready. I'll be in some facility getting experimented on. I'll be strung up by the football team and left hanging by the roadside as an example of what happens to monsters. I'm only one person, Lex.”

For the longest moment of Clark's life, Lex was completely silent. His gaze had fallen to the carpet off to the side, so many thoughts running through his mind at once. Clark didn't mean to go off but he was so, so tired, and there was no end to the day in sight.

“Okay, I'm sorry.” Lex said, looking back to Clark with unwavering confidence. “Believe it or not, I understand how that feels. Small town Kansas or the most exclusive club in Gotham, there are pitchforks everywhere for people like us. That's why we have to stick together.”

The warmth Clark felt at Lex's words was something entirely new. There was so many new things he was discovering since Lex came into his life, but this feeling was his favorite, but this feeling was his favorite. It was a calm sureness, a feeling of confidence in telling his parents everything at last.

“Come on, let's get you home.” Lex said, patting Clark's upper arm and smiling.

Clark nodded, following just behind Lex as they made their way out. A member of the night staff was waiting with Lex's jacket and driving gloves. The curious thought of how much these people knew about Lex crossed Clark's mind, especially being from his previous residence in Metropolis.

In the quiet car ride home, something that should have felt profoundly awkward, Clark wondered how often the Luthor family turned over their staff to keep their secret. Normally, Clark would have been going over what he would say to his parents, rehearse his lines for the inevitable clash. Instead, he was completely absorbed by the trivial thought.

Perhaps, it was as often as they moved households every several years to avoid questions about the aging thing. But Lex had said his staff was from his Metropolis residence, which made no sense then.

With a sigh, Clark dropped the train of thought as focused on the farm growing ever closer. By the time they pulled into the driveway and parked beside his father's red truck, Clark was sure he was going to throw up. He couldn't help the way his head bowed as he got out of the car, able to feel the gaze of his parents from the front porch before he saw them.

“Good evening,” Lex said.

“Evening.” Jonathan replied, nodding at him.

Martha was the first to break ranks as Lex and Clark approached the house, hurrying to Clark and wrapping her arms around him. As he returned the gesture, resting his head on her shoulder as a hand stroked his hair, that ever safe warmth he felt in his mother's arms returned. Clark couldn't deny, even with his anxiety and and worries, that it was a show of support.

Pulling away from his mother, he looked up at the porch to his father. Jonathan stood tensely with his arms crossed, blue flannel rolled up to his elbows. The way he watched over the people in his yard reminded Clark of a guard dog trying to decide if someone is friend or foe. At the slightest misstep, he would make his decision known if they were welcome or not.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Martha asked as she held her son at an arms length and looked him over.

“I'm fine, ma.” He muttered, giving her a halfhearted smile.

With a sympathetic smile, she wrapped an arm of comfort around her son and walked with him the rest of the way up the porch. They went inside together and Clark was greeted with the smell of Martha's cooking and a new batch of muffin's for the Beanery.

As Lex followed behind, he was stopped by the quick reflexes of Jonathan Kent. A hand shot up to stop him from entering the open threshold. With a sigh, Lex stepped back and looked up at Jonathan, keeping his expression as neutral as he could.

“If we invite you in, what's keeping you from abusing that privilege?”

“Dad-”

“It's okay, Clark.” Lex said. “I wouldn't because I've never needed to be invited in.”

After saying his piece, Lex continued forward and stepped through the doorway. After a moment, Jonathan followed them in and closed the door behind him, taking a moment to look over everything.

“What happened?” He asked.

Lex looked to Clark as he looked away, thoughts racing.

“Clark needed help, so he came to me.” He said, trying to deflect some of Jonathan's attention from the poor kid.

“Is that true?” Jonathan asked, still keeping his focus on Clark.

He nodded.

“Clark, you know we're here to help you, right?” Martha asked, trying to catch Clark's eyes.

“I know, I've always known that, ma.” Clark said, finally looking between his parents. “But... but there are things you can't understand about what I'm going through.”

“Clark-”

“No, dad. You always say you try but you really can't. Some things are just too different.” There was a confidence slowly growing in Clark's voice as he continued on. He looked to Lex as he paused to collect his thoughts, sharing a small nod of solidarity. “I want to know what I am and how I can live as normally as possible.”

“Clark, we- we know what you are.” Martha said, her brows coming together.

“Mrs. Kent, I don't think Clark is a full vampire.” Lex said, stepping further into the living room. “He can do some amazing things, but he lacks certain weaknesses and limitations of the average vampire.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I've never met a vampire that can set foot in the sun without eventually burning to ash.”

In the beat of silence as his parents processed that fact, Clark and Lex looked to each other again. In that moment, he perfectly understood what Lex was trying to say and hoped he could understand his own. Everything was going to be okay, and this was all on Clark's terms.

“Then what did you need help with that couldn't wait until after school?” Martha asked. “Chloe brought your backpack back.”

“I... I almost had an accident... with Lana.”

“Clark, what did we talk about?” Jonathan asked.

“I wasn't going out of my way to see her, dad,” Clark said. “I didn't mean to get stuck alone with her, but I did and... nothing happened, but only because I went to Lex. I couldn't come to you and mom because I... I didn't want to hurt you.”

Jonathan was struck silent by his son, taking a deep breath as he looked away. It was almost painful as Clark finally opened up to his parents about his secrets, laying bare the things that scared him. None of them had ever spoken out loud the fact that he could easily hurt either parent in an accident, but they couldn't avoid it any longer.

“So how do you help?” Jonathan asked, finally looking at Lex.

“I want to help Clark find out how to live his human life safely.” He said, looking to Clark. “The biggest being making sure he doesn't starve without blood.”

“We have a substitute for him, we're taking care of that ourselves.” Jonathan snapped. “He told me it was getting worse but we are working on that as a family.”

“The coconut water doesn't work anymore.” Clark blurted.

“What?”

“I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but it hasn't helped in a long time and I just didn't want to make you worry.” He took a deep breath and continued before Jonathan could get a word in. “Lex has been supplying me with blood for a couple weeks and for the first time in my life, I actually feel like I can actually breath around people.”

“Clark-”

“Where do you get it?” Martha interrupted Jonathan, watching Lex closely. “How do you get the blood for Clark?”

“I have some connections in the medical field,” he said. “There's always a person or two that can help with a supply. No taking from unsuspecting patients, not taking a life saving plasma donation either.”

“It's clean? He won't get sick?”

Lex simply nodded, looking from Martha to Clark. Those blue eyes looked so troubled, sneaking peeks at his father who was focused intently on their flooring. It would be easier with Martha and Jonathan in the know, even if it took them a long time to be totally okay with Clark growing up. Dealing with a human child leaving the nest and becoming someone entirely different from what their parents expected is hard enough.

“If what we tried to do on our own isn't working, I'm not going to oppose someone who knows more than we do about this.” Martha said, looking to Jonathan.

“Martha...” He sighed, brow drawn up.

“How can we promise that much for Clark on our own? Jonathan, I love you, but we can't do everything without help.” She said, taking a shaky breath. “Besides, Clark is almost an adult. One way or the other, he's making this decision himself.”

With her final word on the matter, Martha smiled at her son before pressing a kiss on his cheek.

“We all need to rest and thing about this, okay?”

“Yeah, mom.” Clark said softly.

“Thank you for bringing him home, Lex.” She said, turning her smile on the other man. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.” Lex said as he returned the smile. “Goodnight, Clark.”

Turning, Lex gave Jonathan a final look before heading out of the family home. It was quiet for the moment before they heard the car door open and close and the engine began.

“Your father and I need to talk, why don't you go get ready for bed. Are you hungry?”

“No, ma, I'm fine.” Clark said. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Turning to head upstairs, Clark kept his ears focused. He made it to the bathroom door before he could hear the whispering begin. The door clicked closed behind him before going to the vent under the sink. Turning the grates, the sound of his parents voices echoed up as clearly as a radio.

“-at's no good, Martha.” Jonathan said. “How are we supposed to trust a Luthor?”

“What else do we do?” She said, sounding more tired and confused than Clark had ever heard before. “Clark is going to see him whether we try to stop him or not, he's eighteen. There's only so much we can tell him he can and can't do, but when it makes him feel normal... Jonathan, how can you be more worried about the fact that it's the Luthor's when Clark has been hiding the fact that he's been drinking blood to survive?”

There was a long pause, some time Clark took to start brushing his teeth as washing up from the day. Jonathan's voice came up in the grate under the sink again.

“I'm only worried after what happened last time, Martha. I don't want to deal with these people thinking they can waltz into our lives and ruin everything we worked so hard to create together.”

There was a long pause as the words echoed in Clark's mind, toothpaste collecting at the corner of his mouth as he stopped brushing.

“Jonathan... I promised you then and I'm promising you now, we'll never have to got through that again.”


	32. Chapter 32

Waking up late in the morning, and with the last clings of anxiety from the night before, Clark felt more off kilter than he had in quite a long time. It was like everything had been turned on his head and suddenly, he couldn't go back. There was no putting these worms out.

With a deep breath, Clark rolled out of bed and looked out his window. The sun was high in the sky already, the great expanse of the Kent farm rolling out ahead of him. He could see his father out working on the farm, head down and focused on the task at hand.

That uncomfortable feeling twisted around his heart as Clark realized things would never be the same between he and Jonathan again. He wasn't a little boy anymore who could look up to his father to guide and advise him through life. No, that had been made clear as he asserted control of his own life and Lex's place in it the night before.

With a deep breath, Clark started getting ready for the day and headed downstairs. He buttoned his flannel as he walked to the kitchen, two very conflicting smells hitting him all the way up the stairs. It was the same buttery, sweet smell of weekend pancakes Martha always made the family, but under it all was something far more surprising than weekday pancakes.

Sharp, tangy iron.

Blood.

Taking a deep breath, Clark pushed forward to the kitchen. As expected, a plate of still warm pancakes was at the breakfast table as Martha sat in her usual seat, reading through the newspaper. It looked like a normal Saturday morning short one person and plus a glass of blood left at his own seat.

“Good morning, sweetie.” Martha said, looking up from the paper.

“What's...”

He didn't have to say it for Martha to understand, clearing her throat as she folded the paper.

“Lex had some delivered earlier,” she said. “I thought... I thought we should get used to this. Together.”

The corner of Clark's lips curled up in a shy smile, a warm feeling spread through his chest and beat back the anxiety still burying deep.

“Thanks, ma.”

He took his seat and started eating, eyes wandering to the clock mounted on the wall.

“Oh, crap, I missed the school bus!”

“Sweetie, why don't you stay home today?” Martha said in a tone that clearly communicated this wasn't optional.

“You and dad... you aren't going to make me leave school now, are you?” He asked, dabbing the syrup from his lips with a napkin.

“What? No, of course not.”

Reaching over the table, Martha rested her hand over Clark's and kept her eyes locked on his.

“Clark, we need to talk as a family. There's a lot going on right now and I know it has to be very overwhelming for you. We always knew your senior year and becoming an adult would be hard for you, but your father and I were short sighted. We never figured out how to help you... help you come into your vampire side.” She took a deep breath and looked over the glass set out for Clark, a deep conflict playing out on her face. “You father and I will _never_ stop loving you, Clark. I hope you know that.”

“I know, I love you, too.” He said softly, his eyes stinging with the emotion behind it. “That's why I was so scared to tell you. I never... I never wanted to scare you and dad.”

“Scare us? No! Oh, Clark...” Martha squeezed his hand tightly. “I'm so sorry we made you feel like you couldn't talk to us about this. I never wanted you to feel like you couldn't be who you are. Every part.”

Clark turned over his hand in her grasp and squeezed back, looking from their hands to his mother. It was devastating and relieving all at the same time now that everything was out in the open. Blinking back tears, Clark took a deep breath as reached for the full glass.

It was room temperature, just shy of a bags worth and smelled strongly. There was a terrible part of Clark that thought, as he brought the glass to his lips, of pouring it over his pancakes like syrup. Now that his parents knew, that they were supportive of this all despite the time they needed to adjust, Clark began to wonder how else he could work blood into his diet. Did he have to drink it? Could they cook with it? Would that ruin it's nutritional value? All these things ran through his mind as he politely sipped at the glass.

There was no way he was telling Martha he was still satiated from the night before after such a show of support.

Looking back to his mother, Clark noticed Martha was focused closely on the newspaper beside her own empty plate until he set aside the glass and continued eating.

Something about the night before still nagged at the back of Clark's mind. The conversation he had overheard between his parents. For a moment, he considered just asking Martha about what they would never have to go through again. Clark knew better than to ask outright, that was just asking for a lecture on eavesdropping and using his abilities to invade people's privacy.

So Clark just continued eating, taking a sip of his blood every once in a while to wash the pancakes down.

***

The sixth period bell rang before the doors of Smallville High opened and students poured out of the classrooms in droves. The day had been so beyond normal and quiet, Chloe wondered how much that correlated with Clark's absence. The thought didn't have long to germinate before she was down the main stairwell of the school and bumping shoulders with Pete by the water fountain and bathrooms.

“Hey, please tell me you're waiting for Clark to finish up in there,” she said.

“No, Lana, actually.” He said, sighing as he leaned against the wall. “So he was a no show in your classes too?”

“Yeah, I have no idea how long he's going to pull this invisible man act.” Chloe said, crossing her arms over her chest as the bathroom door swung open and closed.

“Who's invisible?” Lana asked, clutching a small stack of books under one arm while she fished through her bag for something.

“Clark, he wasn't in class today.” Chloe said.

“Do you think he's sick?” She asked, pulling out a composition notebook and handing it to Pete. “Here's the class notes. Can you get them back to me tomorrow?”

“I got you.” He said, smiling as he tucked the notebook in his bag. “Clark never gets sick, though. I mean, except...”

Pete got quiet, looking to Chloe as a look of understanding came over her.

“Except what?” Lana asked.

“Uh... Clark has this blood thing,” Chloe said.

“His phobia?”

“Phobia?” Pete asked, brow scrunched together. “No, he's got this medical condition. I don't remember exactly what it is, but he has to take all these supplements and stuff.”

“He was having some kind of episode the other week. I still had some coconut water in the Torch from last year, that seemed seemed to help him out for a while.”

“Wait, okay, stop me if I get this wrong,” Lana said. “Clark has a blood related medical condition that can make him have some kind of episode but coconut water helps?”

“Yeah, that's right,” Chloe said.

“Okay, cool. Just making sure I heard that right.” She said.

“It's like chronically low electrolytes or something.” Pete filled her in, pushing off the wall and starting to walk. “I gotta go coach my football team, but someone should check on Clark.”

“I can't, at least not until late. I have a shift at the Beanery,” Lana said.

“Well, I did have an interview with the lunch lady. I think I can push that back a day to check on our boy scout.” Chloe said, smiling as she stopped by the Torch office door. “Oh, shoot.”

Pete and Lana paused, looking back at Chloe before following her eye-line to a new poster posted up across the hall from the school newspaper. It was a plain white poster with the schools crow mascot painted in a fancy, red bow tie and dance shoes. Across the top it said HOMECOMING DANCE with the date across the bottom.

“We never decided if we were doing dances this year.” Chloe sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

“Okay, but how worth it is Homecoming really?” Pete asked. “It's not prom.”

“It's worse, it's diet prom to celebrate or nurse the egos of the football team.” Lana lamented. “I mean, it's still fun.”

It was impossible for Chloe to hold back her laughter, shaking her head slowly.

“Okay, Miss Former Cheerleader,” she said. “Hey, why don't we do a group? It's our senior year, we might as well suck it up for a couple dances. It's memory building! We've got enough people for a comfortable group.”

“I hope you know that lack in faith that I could find my own date hurts, deep down.” Pete said, slapping a hand dramatically to his chest.

“Well, if you really want to give finding a date a chance, go right ahead.” Chloe said, brows raised as she smiled and turned her attention to Lana. “In that case, I might as well ask Clark to the dance for you while I'm over there.”

Lana looked from Pete to Chloe, her face slowly growing pink.

“I'm sorry, what?” She laughed nervously.

“I mean, I kinda assumed Whitney was off the table, why not go with Clark?” Chloe said, giving Lana a conspiratorial smile.

“Why don't we just stick to the group Idea,” Lana said.

“Okay, that works, too.” Pete said, looking down at his watch. “This has been fun, but I gotta run.”

“Yeah, me too.” Lana peeked at her own watch and shouldered her bag. “Tell Clark hi for me.”

“Will do.”

Chloe watched her friends disappear down the hall before slipping into the Torch office. For a moment, she took a deep breath and steadied the anxiety that had been slowly growing in her chest since she agreed to visit Clark. There was so many things she'd found and needed to verify, it gnawed at the back of her mind as she searched her purse for the car keys.

She didn't keep a full bag, yet Chloe couldn't find the keys for the life of her. Pausing, she took a deep breath and set the purse on an empty desk, slowly dumping out the contents. As soon as the last thing as fallen out, Chloe picked up it up and held the purse upside down, shaking it out over the desk. Nothing came tumbling out except a few crumbs and some loose hairs from her hairbrush. One by one, she started picking through the contents of the bag and setting them aside. Tampons, chapstick, hair tie with a few barrettes clipped on it, hairbrush, breath mints, notebooks, pencils, tape recorder, water bottle. No sign of keys.

That pit of anxiety had grown larger and sending sharp jabs of panic through Chloe's bodies as she grabbed the straps of her purse and started tearing through it. She didn't know when it started, but slow drops fell onto the lining fabric of her purse. Several dark drops fell on Chloe's hands before she crumpled down on the floor and curled in on herself. Deep sobs wracked her body, shaking her against the black and white linoleum floor. Hot streams of tears streaked her cheeks with mascara lines, a rim of splotchy black around her eyes giving her the illusion of raccoon eyes.

She couldn't feel any of it, the flood gates holding back the last month finally breaking around her and Chloe was in shock. She'd told herself if Clark showed up today, she was wrong. It was a crackpot theory, but she didn't know what to think in the presence of this evidence. She tried to mop up the tears from her face, mascara speared across her palms, Chloe pulled herself into the closest office chair and rolled over to her desk. Sniffling and gasping for air, she turned on the monitor and forced herself to look one more time before she could clean herself up and pretend this never happened.

Getting her hands on Lex's adoption file had been hard enough, using up her final favor with her contact in Metropolis after finally tracking down the right agency. It had seemed strange enough that Lex hadn't been adopted through a Gotham agency considering he and his father had lived there full time most of his childhood. Metropolis had been a recent development after he started going to MetU. But of course, Metropolis United Charities was one of Lionel Luthor's pet projects. That was what really tipped Chloe off about it all.

That was what really worried her as she turned on the computer monitor and clicked open a file. It had taken a while, but Chloe had managed to pull some strings of her own to find out the other kid adopted in that six month period MUC was open. Now that she read it again, she wished she hadn't.

How could Chloe face Clark knowing he was the other child?


	33. Chapter 33

Pulling into the Kent driveway, Chloe feared the worst. It was so hard to admit Clark's adoption was in some way falsified in someway, but the only other option was that the Luthor adoption hadn't been. It was all just coincidence that Clark was adopted through the same agency as Lex in the short amount of time MUC had been open. It was the simpler answer, but Chloe rarely believed in coincidence.

Taking a deep breath, she promised herself that as soon as she knocked on the door Martha would walk her up to Clark's room and she would see that doofus stuck in bed with a fever or throwing up or something that excused him missing school. It wasn't because he was actually fine and the weird medical condition wasn't an excuse for something more nefarious. Because the Kent's didn't get Clark on the black market. They were just small town Kansas farmers.

Right?

Chloe shook the thought from her mind and got out of the little red car. Walking up to the front porch, the door opened before Chloe had a chance to knock.

“Chloe, it's good to see you.” Martha said, standing firmly between the door and it's frame.

“Hi, Mrs. Kent,” Chloe said. “I just came to see Clark, we all missed him.”

“Oh, he's not feeling well right now.”

“Is it his blood condition?” She asked, swallowing thickly. “What was it again?”

“Um, no, it's not his blood condition.” Martha said, her brow furrowed as she watched Chloe. “Clark's just got a nasty bug, he's asleep right now.”

“Is it okay if I just pop in? On the off chance that he's awake now.” Chloe said, trying to smile.

“I actually just checked on him, it's ok-”

There was the sound of heavy footsteps as a door upstairs opened and closed, leading down the stairs as Martha craned her neck around the door to look. Chloe did the same, jumping back as Martha looked at her.

“That would be Jonathan with his temperature,” she said.

“I thought Clark was asleep.”

The footsteps lead from the stairs behind Martha to the living room to Chloe's left. Her eyes flicked in that direction through the window but were met with the blocked view of curtains.

“He is, but we want to keep an eye on his temperature. Clark's never really been on to catch a bug.” Martha's smile was so practiced and perfect, still standing perfectly in Chloe's way.

“I always found that funny, considering the blood condition,” Chloe said. “Is it bad?”

“No, just a bug.” Martha reiterated again, clearing her throat. “Anyways, I'll pass on your well wishes to Clark, thank you for coming to check on him.”

“Anytime, Mrs. K.” Chloe said, keeping a smile on her face as she started walking down the steps of the front porch.

She heard the front door click shut and turned to take a peek. Just as she looked over her shoulder, the living room curtains were drawn shut. They still swayed a bit in the window as Chloe did a scan of the farm around her. By all accounts, she was alone. Even Martha had said Jonathan was inside, something she still doubted until she could get a peek inside.

Taking slow steps cross the yard, Chloe navigated the little flower patch in front of the windows and scanned the sill for a gap to see through. There at the right corner, the curtain had caught on the arm of a chair sat beside the window. She had to go on her tip toes to look inside but watched as her heart froze in her chest.

It wasn't Jonathan she saw in the living room with Martha. Instead she saw Clark, dressed and cleaned up and looking as healthy as ever. Even better, in fact. He had a flush of color to his face she had never seem before, not when he wasn't sputtering and mooning over Lana herself.

“Chloe?”

Ice ran through Chloe's vein's as she turned to look at Jonathan Kent coming around the corner of the house and started sputtering. Looking back at the window, she saw Clark and Martha looking straight at her. The same panic she felt was reflected in their faces and Chloe realized how bad this was.

“Sorry, just came by to see Clark, didn't hear anyone inside.” She laughed, stumbling out of the flower bed. “Whoops, so sorry about that, I gotta run!”

Before Clark and Martha were on the porch, Chloe had packed herself back in her little red car and was pulling out the driveway and speeding down the road. Jonathan looked to his family on the porch, the confusion plain on his face.

“What was Chloe doing here?” He asked.

“She just came to check on Clark, I thought she was leaving.” Martha said, looking over her flower bed in front of the window. “Oh, Clark, she saw you after everything I said.”

“What did you tell her?” Jonathan asked, walking up to the porch and reaching up to put a hand over his wife's hand.

“I just said Clark was sick, I didn't think anyone would come by to check on him.” Martha placed her other hand over Jonathan's and squeezed.

“It'll be okay, I think I just spooked her.” Jonathan said.

“I... I'm not sure.” Clark piped up, looking between his parents. “You're not going to like it.”

“Clark, I think your father and I are getting used to hearing things we don't like,” Martha said. “What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, Clark started back inside and paced the living room. Martha and Jonathan followed, watching their son closely.

“Clark?”

“She may have found out about my adoption.” He blurted. “I've been worried about it since she started looking into Lex, but I also didn't want to say thing because...”

Clark paused and looked at his parents, looked at their worried expressions as he realized how much would have to be explained. There was so much they just knew the half stories and stretched truths of, he wasn't sure what to really say. At this point, he still didn't want to tell his parents everything, not sure how much they really knew and how much he'd avoided.

“Chloe got her hands of Lex's adoption during her investigation of the 1989 murder kidnapping. She... she thinks Lex is Alexander Kennedy because he was adopted through Metropolis United Charities, which was only open for six months and only processed two adoptions.” Clark said, his jaw clenching as he took a deep breath.

“Clark...” Martha stepped towards her son.

“I always figured my adoption wasn't totally above board,” he admitted. “I just... is that why you didn't want me to get close with Lex?”

“No, not totally, at least.” Martha said, taking Clark's large hand in her own. “Clark, we love you, but there's a lot about how we got you that even we don't totally understand.”

“Just tell me, do you know anything about if Lex was Alexander Kennedy?” He asked, holding his breath.

“No, sweetie.” Martha said. “This has never been about Lex directly. There's things about the Luthor's... things I'm sure you can tell aren't as black and white or easily understandable as we'd wish. We just wanted to protect you from them.”

“You won't tell me what those things are, will you?” Clark asked, looking to his father.

Jonathan slowly shook his head, barely able to look him in the eye.

“There are things you're safer not knowing about, at least for now.”

***

As soon as night descended, Clark took his leave of the Kent farm. For once with permission, he promised to be home before midnight. These school night trips wouldn't last much longer, just until he returned to school well rested and restored to health. Then it was up to him to deter Chloe from snooping any deeper. For her and everyone else's sake.

That didn't weight on Clark at all. No, it was just a walk in the park lying to his friends. Shaking off the thoughts, he approached the manor gate and looked up at the security camera. As soon as his face was visible to the camera and he gave a little wave, the gate buzzed and started opening on it's own. Within moments, Clark zoomed down the driveway and through the manor. He stopped at the doors of the library, the softest notes of Lex's scent still hanging in the air.

He wasn't in the library anymore, but he had been recently.

Clark was shocked by the thought, opening the door and scanning the room. Just as he'd thought, the library was empty. He closed the door and took in a deep breath. The soft musk, like sandalwood and old books, lead him through the manor halls and around winding corners before he came to the base of that staircase. Looking up, Clark knew he would see that mural of the dragon and knight. He couldn't tell what about it bothered him so much, perhaps just the immensity and lavishness of it all.

Taking a deep breath, Clark looked up the stairs and felt his breath catch in his throat. There, at the top step and a hand poised on the railing, stood Lex. Colored moonlight spilled over Lex, his face painted in patches of green dragon scales as he watched the piece with glassy eyes. Clark took the moment to study Lex in his distracted state, watching the way shadows carved his profile like a Roman emperor. His straight nose, high cheekbones, the contours of his neck and shoulders as he stood at angle away from the window. It was like a photo of a distracted party goer, so entranced in the art he forgot where he was going.

After a moment, Clark cleared his throat and let his eyes wander away, only peeking through his lashes back at Lex.

“Hey,” he said.

“Clark, it's great to see you.” Lex said, his head snapping back from the mural. “I was just told you were at the front, I'm glad to see you're doing better.”

“Thanks, I feel better.” Clark said, stepping back as Lex joined him at the bottom of the stairs.

“How did things go over with your parents?” Lex asked, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and guiding him back through the halls.

“Dad's coming around to it, but we're doing okay,” he said.

For the first time, Clark realized the two of them were going at the same pace. It wasn't the same speed at which he would travel Smallville from end to end, but the casual pace was not one most humans could keep up with. The library doors appeared in front of them in moments, Lex motioning for Clark to enter first.

“Something's gotten under your skin, though.” Lex observed, walking over to his bar and pouring out two glasses of blood from a crystal decanter. “Sorry, it's just written all over your face.”

“I'm that easy to read?” He asked, giving a halfhearted smile as he accepted a glass from Lex.

“Not always,” he said.

With a sigh, Clark sipped the blood and tried to string his thoughts together.

“Chloe... she's...”

“Did something happen?” Lex asked.

“Not like last time... She's safe, just, I- shit...” Clark took a deep breath and shook his head. “Chloe's investigating you, she thinks you're the missing kid from that old cold case and managed to find your adoption records.”

“She-”

“And then she found mine.”

There was many ways Clark had thought about Lex responding to this revelation. Shock, confusion, anger, but now he didn't seem to have any reaction. His face was unmoving, simply licking a spot of blood from his lip before taking a deep breath.

“Clark, that's a very serious accusation.”

“I know, but because she doesn't know anything about vampires or the supernatural, she's going to come to far worse conclusions,” he said. “Lex, we... we were adopted through the same agency.”

“And?” Lex said, his face still unmoving as paced to his desk, leaning against the edge. “Clark, a lot of kids get adopted. I don't think sharing an agency is that special.”

“Lex, Metropolis United Charities was only open for six months, we were the only cases they handled, and on top of that...” Clark took a deep breath and left his glass on the bar.

“Your adoption wasn't all that legal either, was it?”

Clark shook his head and swallowed thickly, his thoughts running at a mile a minute.

“My parents found me in the middle of the road. I don't know how they got it all together or why it was through your father's organization.” Clark admitted.

Lex took a deep breath and sighed, bringing the glass back up to his lips and taking an especially long sip. He licked a drop off his lower lip, eyes focused intently on the swirling blood the cup before letting them focus straight ahead.

“I can see why this would all look so problematic to Chloe,” he said.

“How did you deal with keeping this secret with friends when you were changed?” Clark asked.

“I didn't.”

The silence that descended between the two was filled by the crackling of the fire. In the moment that passed between the two men, the statement clicked in Clark's mind and he couldn't help but feel sorry.

“Lex...”

“No, it's okay. I'll admit, before you I didn't have friendships like yours.” Lex admitted, setting aside the glass on his desk and standing up. “As a child, I was friend by default with the kids of my father's business associates. There was a few other families, former partners in a company my father invested in, that we'd spend summers with. Those friendships didn't last into school.”

“I'm sorry.” Clark said reflexively.

Lex could only smile a curated smile as he sighed.

“The biggest lesson my father taught me was that relationships should be transactional. He demanded complete loyalty while I grew up for taking me in and eventually changing me,” he continued. “Then I met you.”

The curated smile softened a little and suddenly Clark could imagine him ten years younger. A scrappy, boyish kid just trying to get along with the knowledge that his life had an expiration date and it was always coming sooner. Clark felt thankful for once that he had been born and not changes if there had been a chance he'd had that eventual day dangled just in front of him for his whole life.

“I never felt like I could be entirely honest before meeting you,” Clark said. “All my friends, I had to lie about medical conditions and fake family events to get out of things that could have put me in danger of exposing myself. Keeping Pete and Chloe's trust through it all has been really hard. Now...”

“You're worried she won't trust anything you say?” Lex finished for him.

“Yeah.”

Clark looked just like a kicked puppy as his gaze fell away from Lex's face, brow down turned like the corners of his mouth. He was really broken up about this, Lex realized. He didn't know how to comfort him, still processing how much Clark had known about Chloe's investigation. It had been a while since he had checked in with her, but he didn't know what erasing himself from her memory so often would do in the long term.

“Listen, hey, you're doing good right now. Okay?” Lex said, placing a hand on each of Clark's wide shoulders. “You have one less lie to keep things normal now that your parents know. Let the dust from all this settle and when you're feeling more even-keeled, talk to her. It'll be okay.”

Clark looked up at Lex, some of the misery draining out of his face.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” Lex said, smiling. “And loosen up and be a kid, why don't you? Come on, you're only in high school once.”

The two chuckled together as Lex patted his shoulder, the tension in the room finally dissipating.


	34. Chapter 34

The graveyard was quiet except the occasional bug call or scurrying animal that barely bothered Lana as she walked passed headstones. Her parent's grave was still pretty clean since last time she came, a few stray leaves fallen about and the flowers she left last time now dried and decomposing. With a sigh, she moved them aside and set down a new bunch of daisies.

“I hope you're not getting sick of them. I mean, daisies were your favorite.” Lana said, sitting beside the headstone. “That's what Aunt Nell always says, at least. I'm not sure how much I believe her anymore.”

A soft breeze rustled the bare trees around the dark graveyard, branches scraping against the high gate surrounding the large plot. It was dense around the outskirts but Lana never feared the world just beyond the gates. The monsters shadows turned into at night never bothered her since she was little and someone said her parents were watching over her from heaven. Whether that was entirely accurate, she felt even more sure now someone certainly was watching over her.

A strong wind passed by the graveyard suddenly, rattling the trees by the entrance as Lana jumped. Her hand went to her locket, clutching it tightly as a second chain brushed her fist. The quarter she'd been so preoccupied with hunt on it's own longer chain, wrapped in silver wire. Even hanging over her shirt, Lana swore it always felt as warm as if it had been living in her palm.

“I can't even begin to explain the things I have started believing.” She admitted, swallowing thickly. “Sometimes I worry I'm starting to go crazy, but... then you start to notice other weird things once it's been exposed.”

The clouds above slowly blew across the sky, obscuring the waning moon and it's light.

“It's like the rug has been pulled out from under me and I just want the damn rug back.” She laughed, tears filling her eyes as she rubbed her thumb over the engraved back of her locket. “I just want to make my own decisions.”

Around the base of an angel statue a good ten feet away, a twig snapped. Looking up, a lump formed in Lana's throat as she watched a large figure illuminated from behind step out.

“Clark?” She called out, hopeful.

“Of course you'd think it was him.” Whitney called back.

Huffing a sigh, Lana stood from her parents headstones and stared down Whitney. He stepped closer, vague features becoming more distinguishable in the darkness. That chilled breeze had died down, leaving the clouds hanging heavy and dark in the sky above.

“Go away, Whitney. We broke up, you lost your right to check up on me for Nell,” she snapped.

“No, _we_ didn't, you broke up with me.” He shot back, walking closer. “And I'm not done with us.”

“Too bad, I am, now leave us alone.” Lana said, backing up against the headstones.

“Lana, you're alone.” Whitney said, gesturing to the empty graveyard.

“I'm trying to spend time with my parents.”

As Lana motioned to the headstones, Whitney looked over the grave with a stony expression. Lana always knew he was far less comfortable with death than her, but he hadn't lost people like she had. Lost people so important before she could even remember them.

“Come on, it's...”

“It's what?” She snapped. “This is exactly why I broke up with you, Whitney. You can't even respect that I need to be alone with my _parents_ right now.”

“Come on, I'm taking you home.”

“You're taking me _nowhere_.” She snapped, pushing against Whitney's chest as he came closer.

He stumbled back, the backs of his legs knocking against another headstone.

“Shit, Lana!”

“I said leave me alone!”

“God, fuck you! All this freaky shit and hanging out in graveyards, talking to dead people, is why Nell's taking you away in the first place!” Whitney snapped, patience finally worn thin. “Would you just be a normal girl for once in your fucking life?!”

The silence as his words echoed was charged and thin, stillness coming over Lana as she stared up at him. Her eyes had never looked as piercing as they did then, focused precisely on Whitney and Whitney alone. The clean smell of ozone slowly floated through the air as he sniffed, looking around the sky as the clouds finally rolled away. Silver moonlight flooded the area, bathing every headstone and worn statue in bright auras.

“I dated you for three years, Whitney. I dated you for three years all because I thought you were special and could make me feel normal for once in my life.” Lana said, her voice slowly growing like the ever approaching roar of a tidal wave. “It was a fantasy, dating the quarterback and getting a full ride cheer scholarship and it would be happily ever after. But now matter how long we dated, how many times I said I loved you and tried to just be a normal girl, I couldn't make it mean anything!”

It was a sharper blow than if Lana had reached out and slapped Whitney across the cheek, his face slowly contorting into a perfect imitation of a tragedy mask. Part of her immediately wanted to take it all back and placate the situation she'd gotten herself into. Another part of her, a part Lana had never recognized or indulged before, felt vindicated by the reaction. It was terrifying how great it felt to finally let her secrets hurt someone besides herself, cutting Whitney down to size.

“You... you never meant it?” He asked, his voice as small and scared as a child. “All those times you said you loved me, you didn't mean it?”

“How could I?” Lana said, the vindicated side winning out. “I can't think of a single time I actually felt anything besides scared. I don't know if I'm just broken or if you just couldn't love anything besides the idea of us enough for me to be happy, but I could never be happy with you.”

The silence over the graveyard pierced Lana's eardrums as she stared up at Whitney, tears turning his eyes glossy and bright as his mouth hung open wordlessly. His lip quivered before taking a deep breath, he looked away and ran the sleeve of his letterman jacket over his eyes.

“When did you turn into such a bitch?” He said, turning back to Lana. “Was it when you started hanging out with that snoop, Chloe? Or when you started letting Clark get some on the side?”

“You leave him out of this!”

“You're not denying it!” Whitney shot back, stepping close in a few short strides. “How long has it been, huh?”

“Clark and I are just friends, Whitney. That's something you obviously can't understand! We're not dating anymore, you don't get to tell me who I can and can't be friends with anymore!”

With her final words, Lana turned to walk the long way around a few graves to get away.

“We're not done!”

Whitney's larger hand grabbed her small upper arm, wrapped around it so easily as he jerked her back. Lana cried out, beginning to fling her arms and legs at him before the loud snap of a branch froze the two teens in place. It came from beyond the gates of the graveyard, several more snaps and rustling leaves echoed through the lot from the dense treeline. Whitney's grip on Lana softened but still held onto her firmly before a vague shape formed in the shadows.

“Who's there?” Whitney called out, speaking from deep in his chest.

The figure stood still where it was as he spoke to it. The only distinguishing feature about it was it's petite form, barely taller than Lana. But still a palpable anxiety permeated through the air.

“Come on,” Whitney whispered in Lana's ear.

“No, I'm not going with you.” She said, pulling her eyes away from the figure to try tugging her arm from his grasp.

His hand only tightened at her protest. In one foul swoop, Whitney scooped her up and began running, vaulting over headstones before they reached the gate. His large truck was parked just outside of it, half on the road and half on the patchy grass. Lana caught one look of the black figure jumping over the gate and slowly jogging across the lot before it stopped to watch. Before she could really do anything, Lana heard the truck door open and was deposited inside. Panic rushed through her, looking out the back window to see the trunk of her own car peeking out of the bushes.

“Let me go!” She cried, trying to open the door before Whitney hit the locks at his door.

She lunged forward and tried to push her way through him and out the driver's side door. Rather easily, he was able to push her back as he got in and struggled to pull his keys out of his pocket. Before Lana could even think of what to do, the truck started and was roaring down the road. In the rear view mirror, she could see her car growing smaller and almost disappearing as the panic boiled higher and higher.

Suddenly, Lana's vision seemed to double and she was looking at two different mirrors. In one, the cloudy pair of eyes that had watched over her for weeks now stared back at her. In the other, her car finally disappeared as a little blip in the distance while tress began to thin. Without thinking, Lana grabbed the quarter dangling against her chest. The double vision slowly consolidated into one as the trees began to thicken again and they passed by the gate of the Luthor property.

“Wait, what-” Whitney barely had a moment to speak before the shadow of a hand grabbed the steering wheel and pulled sharply to the right.

The next thing Lana knew, she was pushed down in her seat and curled into a ball before the impact came. She could clearly hear the sound of Whitney's head smacking against the steering wheel before hitting the headrest and he was silent. Slowly looking up and around, Lana saw the large tree the truck had hit. She took several deep breaths before the locks clicked, the sound making her jump.

Without a second thought, she threw open the door and began running. Having just passed the Luthor mansion, the graveyard wasn't far ahead. Lana ran until her lungs began to burn, begging for more oxygen before her car came into view just beyond the graveyard gate. She didn't even stop to see if the figure was still in the lot before throwing herself into the drivers seat and fumbling for her keys in her jean pockets. She dropped them on the floor of her car when she heard the distant sound of a truck door closing.

“Lana!” Whitney cried out. “Lana, where are you!”

Taking a deep breath, Lana snatched her keys up and tried to hold her hand steady as she inserted the right key. The car started easily, roaring to life as Whitney's shouting became louder. She reversed out of the hidden parking spot and onto the road, Whitney illuminated by her lights in the rear view mirror maybe twenty feet away.

“Lana, stop!” He cried out.

She hit the gas. The car tore down the road as Lana took deep, shuddering breaths. Tears stung in her eyes as the adrenaline rush came crashing down. A terrible shake took over her body as she pulled to the side of the road and tried to get enough oxygen in. No matter how deeply she breathed, it never felt like enough. Her head was spinning as sobs bubbled up in her chest. It came out all at once like a dam bursting from the pressure. Hot tears poured down her cheeks in tracks of left over mascara, her face contoured into a mask of agony. She sobbed and screamed and hit the steering wheel, devolving into a mess of pain and confusion.

It felt like hours she just sat there and let everything out, ever repressed piece of anger and discomfort she'd pushed down as far as possible since she and Whitney started dating. The first time he kissed her, stealing her first kiss as she went in for his cheek. When she tried to spend time with her best friend outside of cheer and he complained she never made time for him. Every single time she tried to tell him to leave her alone and he forced her to play arm candy. The only time she'd been able to tell him no when he tried to replace her family locket with a smaller, daintier one he bought for their second anniversary.

Taking a deep breath, her face swollen and red, Lana looked up and locked eyes with the figure in her rear view mirror. She wasn't surprised anymore, a sense of acceptance and understanding settling deep in her chest.

“Who are you?” She asked. “Why do you even care about me?”

A hand slowly raised and reached around the drivers seat, despite the specter never moving under Lana's gaze. The hand looked different, still smeared with soot and the nails caked in dirt, but the skin now smooth and a pale tan. It delicately wrapped around the locket hanging over Lana's heart, warm air brushing Lana's skin as she reached up and placed her hand over the other's.

“I'm ready.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for not posting in a couple weeks, have a longer chapter!

Clark couldn't relax his shoulders as he walked up to the open door of the Torch office, trying to roll out the tension before he cleared his throat. Chloe sat at her desk, typing furiously as she pretended not to see the large figure in the doorway. After a moment, she stopped and looked up at Clark, her practiced poker face up. Clark always hated that, hated how easily Chloe could just cover everything up and look so cool and unphased. But by now, he knew what really laid behind that mask.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said.

“Can we talk?”

Chloe watched him a moment before saving her document and turning off the monitor. She turned in her seat, hands folded over her crossed knees and eyes darting across the floor as she collected her thoughts. Finally, she swallowed her own anxiety and looked up at Clark.

“Before you get started... please just tell me you're safe. I-I know... I know Martha and Jonathan, but... This isn't some Mommie Dearest shit. Are you even actually sick?” She finally asked, her mask cracking as her voice warbled and cracked. “Please just be straight with me, be honest, for once.”

It broke Clark's heart to see Chloe like that, to see how broken hearted and scared she was on his behalf. He wanted to crack a joke with her about how neither of them had ever been able to talk straight with each other, but it wasn't the right time for a gay joke.

Looking over his shoulder at the busy hall behind him, Clark stepped in and kicked the stop from out from under the door. It closed with a click before he stopped in front of Chloe and took a deep breath.

“No, I'm not.” He admitted. “I can't tell you everything, but I promise anything you're scared about with my parents isn't true. I can't tell you everything, but I can tell you enough. I just... I don't want you to get the wrong idea from any of this.”

“It's the only ideas I can get without your side.” She said, looking up at him with a sad smile.

Dropping his bag, Clark grabbed one of the spare office chairs and sat. He rested his arms on his knees, leaning in as he tried to parse out the pieces he could be totally, nakedly honest about. Chloe was a blood hound for the story, only overlooking Clark's falsehoods because of their pact of friendship, and she could tell if he bullshitted any details.

“I was never sick. I can't explain everything, but I wasn't... exactly healthy before. I am now, though. It wasn't a blood disease or anything.” He said, eyes flicking between Chloe and his own hands. “You need to understand... this all has to stay completely off the record.”

“Clark, I'd never-” Chloe stopped herself, swallowing as she went over what she'd been about to say. “I'd never do that to you. This will all go to the grave.”

Clark couldn't help but laugh at the irony of her statement, nodding before he continued.

“I don't know how they got the adoption run through MUC, but they had to with... the nature of how they found me.” He said, cringing at his awkward phrasing. “They found me on the side of the road when I was about two. It sounds ridiculous, but apparently I was just walking around by myself in the rain and they couldn't find anyone for miles.”

“They didn't take you to the sheriff's office?”

“They couldn't,” he said. “I can't tell you why, but there's a reason they faked my adoption instead of taking me in.”

Chloe laughed, barking and sharp as her mask fully slipped away. The worry and confusion was plain on her face as Chloe looked over him and shook her head.

“You were two, how can you even be sure that's true?” She asked. “I know your parents are two of the most honest and kind people in Smallville but you were a toddler.”

“Like I said, there's a reason... I wish I could tell you, but it's...”

“That you're an alien?”

Clark looked up at her in shock before a tired smile crept onto his face. He laughed, shaking his head slowly.

“That would be a hell of a story,” he muttered.

“My friend from beyond the stars. Wouldn't that be a headline?”

The two laughed together, a thin veil of normancy finally thrown over the tension between them. Chloe could barely believe the story Clark was feeding her no matter how much he did. By now, she knew his tells even if she overlooked them most days. Perhaps she'd overlooked them growing up because she didn't want to believe he would lie to her, but it was clear now she'd just bought it all wholesale because it was just a good story. The Kent's were connected to the Luthor's, she couldn't believe a word from them.

The first bell rang, both snapping out of their cheerful act.

“Well, I'll see you in class, then.” Chloe said, giving Clark as genuine a smile as she could.

“Yeah, see ya.” He said, standing and throwing his bag back over his shoulder. “Oh, hey, Homecoming is next week. Did you ever decide if you're still above school dances?”

Running her lower lip between her teeth as she thought over her conversation with Pete and Lana, Chloe let the sting ground her to the moment as she looked up at him.

“I'm game if you are.”

“Okay, well... I guess we'll talk about it with Pete later.”

Nodding, Chloe waved goodbye as Clark disappeared into the hall. The flow of traffic pulled Clark along to his first class. He meandered around the main staircase as a crowd formed around the classroom door, students chatting before the last bell. Behind him, he heard a familiar voice clear her throat. Turning, he was greeted with the beautiful visage of Lana, her usually loose and flowing hair pulled into a tight ponytail as she looked positively cozy in a fuzzy, charcoal sweater.

Clark was taken aback by how tired she looked, dark circles shadowed under her eyes and face bare of any makeup but the left over mascara acting as eyeliner now.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, Houdini.” She said, stepping down from the stairs as Clark stepped out of the way. “So, how'd you pull that disappearing act?”

Clark's face grew warm as he realized he had forgotten to think of a cover story for his behavior earlier that week. It felt so long ago already after spending his nights with Lex and focusing on what he would tell Chloe. He completely forgot about Lana.

“Uh, well, I...” Sighing, Clark shook his head. “I'll be honest, I don't even know myself. I was-”

“Sick?”

Lana's dark eyes seemed to burrow into Clark as he grasped for words.

“Yeah, something like that,” he admitted. “Sorry, you know, for... acting the way I was.”

“Clark, is everything really okay?” She asked, eyes flicking around the hall.

It wasn't until those dark eyes weren't focused on him that Clark really took in the situation he was in. He finally noticed the new necklace hanging around Lana's neck, a chain tucked just under her neckline. He wondered what the pendant was, why Lana didn't display it like her locket. He also wondered, as his own attention pulled to the students around them, why there seemed to be a bubble around him and Lana where no one could step or look.

It was more than normal for no one to pay attention to Clark, that wasn't what bothered him. But it was the way, in a totally crowded hall and standing in front of the main stairs, no one would look or walk within three feet of them. Students took purposeful steps around that three foot bubble as they walked down the stairs. Anyone scanning the hallway wouldn't even give a passing glance to him or Lana, arguably one of the most popular girls in school.

“Yeah, it's just... been weird, you know.” He said, his mind unable to compute the situation he was in. “You know, uh, you know Homecoming is next week.”

Lana's gaze flicked back to Clark, some new kind of focus on him making him wonder what he'd missed. It was like one day Lana was the girl next door he'd loved from afar, beautiful and dainty and perfect. Now, there was something more. He couldn't place what had changed, just that it had and he hadn't been there to see it. He regretted being so wrapped up in his own world that he hadn't been there for Lana, hadn't been there to see this change happen.

“Yeah, it is.” She said, that old smile breaking through. “Any plans?”

Clark simply shrugged, feeling his mouth go dry.

“This is my first year without a date, you know.” She said, laughing nervously. “It's kind of weird.”

“I bet,” he said. “I, uh, I'm probably just going with Chloe and Pete. As friends, I mean. I don't have a date either.”

The last bell rang for first period, the crowd in front of Clark's class finally dissipating.

“I guess I'll see you there, then.” Lana said, walking around Clark and looking over her shoulder. “Later?”

“Yeah, see you later.” He said, smiling and giving her a wave. “Oh, and, uh, at the dance!”

She giggled, waving back at him before walking down the hall to her own class.

Clark watched her, smile glued into place as he sighed. Even if things were different, Lana was different, things were still the same. It wasn't until someone grabbed him by the shoulder that he came out of the lovesick spell.

“ _Please_ tell me you asked her to the dance.” Pete said, watching Lana walk away with his friend.

“Nah,” Clark sighed.

“Are you kidding me?” Pete sighed, pulling him along into the classroom. “Can you explain how you somehow went from not even being able to talk to Lana Lang to talking to her on an almost daily basis while she's _single_ and you still don't take a shot at her?”

The two took their seats in the back of the classroom next to the windows, Clark settling down and gazing outside. Everyone was chattering and settling in to the first lesson of the day, but his mind was elsewhere.

“I don't know, just... worked out.” Clark said, smiling as he leaned back in his seat.

***

The day was over faster than Lana liked. She'd successfully avoided Whitney all day if he had come to school, but somehow every moment she didn't see him dread spread farther through her. Taking deep breaths in her car, Lana looked over the left over marker stains on her palms. Symbols and letters she could easily explain spiraled across her skin, symbols and letters she couldn't have been able to explain the day before.

She leaned back in her seat and rubbed her eyelids until static danced across her vision. It felt good having this knowledge, but still it vexed her. The night before had been the same as when the ghost gave her the quarter, her lucky charm. Things went dark and she was inundated by the jeers and lessons the spirit and next thing she knew, she was laying in a salt circle on her bedroom floor.

A shiver ran over Lana's skin as the moment she woke up replayed in her mind. Staring up at the ceiling, the morning sky still inky blue, she took several deep breaths before sitting up. Hair hung over her face before she pushed it out of the way, taking in the many mismatched candles she'd scavenged from the basement. They still burned bright and steady, the air warm and scented with spices and a sickly sweet floral. The warmth of the candles hung heavy in the room and clung to Lana like a warm blanket. Pulling herself onto her knees, she reached out to the circle of salt, drawing a thin finger through the line. The second the circle was broken, it was like all the air was sucked from the room, every candle snuffing out in one go.

It became a perfectly normal bedroom, save for the marks written across Lana's palms and remaining evidence she'd been doing things Nell wouldn't approve of.

Taking a deep breath, Lana opened her eyes and watched the figure sitting in the back seat of her car. She looked so much better now, face still shadowed as the afternoon sun shone through the window behind her. Her ragged dress watch a bit more put together, more aged than the filthy mess it had been before. Her skin looked almost alive, the same shade of tan Lana turned in the summer. For the first time since they met, Lana felt no fear or hesitation while looking at the spirit.

“So, what? You're my spooky godmother?” She asked, raising a brow as she watched through the read view mirror.

The figure shrugged quickly like she'd laughed, slowly shaking her head.

“That's too bad, I could have used a couple wishes.” Lana continued, sighing.

The car pulled out of the parking lot, Lana’s eyes scanning every car she passed. From her vantage, most cars that hadn’t pulled off the lot were visible, it was a small parking lot. Whitney’s truck wasn’t a single one of them. She sighed again, falling back in the drivers seat. In the rear view mirror, the figure shook her head back and forth in a pitying sort of way.

“What? I’m not worried about him.” Lana said, sitting back up and keeping her hands at ten and two. “Not much.”

There was a whistling sort of sound from the backseat, sounding more like wind through the trees than a human sound. Looking into the back, Lana was greeted with an empty seat, though the spirit was still visible in the mirror.

“Did you just huff at me?” She asked, her mouth hanging open in shock.

It felt so silly, but it sounded like her supernatural guest was copping an attitude with her. She didn’t know if she should feel offended or brush it off as a breeze from outside. But the windows were up, and not a leaf seemed to move outside. Lana’s cheeks warmed as she leaned back in her seat and pulled out of the parking lot next. It had to look so silly how much Lana was starting to talk to someone no one else could see. She didn’t even have Bluetooth, no one would believe she was talking hands-free.

Driving home was as calm and normal as always, something that only put off Lana more. There was a nagging in the back of her head; whether it was her own anxiety or the spirit watching over her, she couldn’t tell. Which ever it was, the fact that it could have been a warning from her ghostly passenger made it far worse.

Small town turned to country road and Lana drove passed the Kent farm. Her first impulse was to pull off and see if Clark was home, hang out and maybe go for a horse ride. Maybe see if he’d thought about Homecoming. Instead, she shook the thoughts Chloe had planted in her mind to pull into her aunt’s driveway and park.

Looking up as she reached for her bag in the passenger seat, Lana’s blood ran cold. Standing around their family car was Whitney’s parents, their attention pulled from their conversation as they got back in. Mrs. Fordman, a middle aged woman with the put together look any housewife would be jealous, watched Lana closely as she pulled her bag onto her lap. In the three years of knowing her, Mrs. Fordman had never turned such a spiteful look at the girl she’d expected to call her daughter.

That conversation in and of itself had been quite the uncomfortable affair.

Mr. Foreman caught his wife’s attention as he got in the car, barely paying Lana any mind. Lana didn’t get out of her car until the van pulled out and turned down the main road back to town, keeping her attention on pretending to primp and preen in her rear view mirror. Pretending to look like anything but a fawn caught in the headlights. As soon as the car was out of sight, she jumped out and hurried up the front steps of the house.

It was a quick jog up inside and up the stairs to her bedroom when Lana saw her Aunt Nell standing outside her bedroom door. It clicked shut as Aunt Nell leaned against the door frame, looking up and back at her niece. Everything was written across her face. Disgust, disappointment, a near sickness to even see Lana in her house.

“Hi.” Lana said, her voice quiet and small.

“I suppose you saw the Fordman’s leaving.” She said, taking a deep breath. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

Lana swallowed the ball of anxiety growing in her throat, nodding quickly as her eyes focused on her aunts shoes rather than her face.

“Last night-”

“How could you do that?” Nell interrupted.

“What?” Lana’s head shot up, finally meeting her aunt’s eyes.

“I tried to be supportive when you broke up with Whitney, even though we both knew you were going to regret it, but trying to crash his car?” She took a deep breath, shaking her head. “Lana, I want to know exactly what ideas you’ve gotten in your head that makes you think acting out like this is okay.”

“I told him to leave me alone, he’s the one who tried abducting me! Aunt Nell, I was scared!”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me like that!” Nell shouted back. “What else did you expect with how you’ve been acting lately? Did that Kent boy get you into something?”

“Keep Clark out of this, he’s just a friend!”

“Then who showed you this?!”

Aunt Nell threw open Lana’s door, exposing the mess left from the night before. The salt circle was still in place, save for the line she’d drawn in the circle upon waking in it and disturbances that looked like footsteps. Her vanity and nightstands were covered in an ecclectic mix of candles Lana had scavenged from around the house, small dots of what looked like blue petals were scattered by the open windows. Standing amongst it all, the spirit looked over the mess herself.

Lana took a deep breath, looking from the mess to her aunt.

“What are you even doing in the cemetery at night?” Nell asked.

“I just talk to mom and dad, I swear.” She said, tears slowly collecting on the rim of her eyes.

“I don’t get it, I just don’t get why you can even think that’s healthy.” Nell said, taking a shaky breath. “You never knew either of them.”

“They’re still my parents!”

“And she was _my_ sister!” She snapped, looking away as she took deep breaths. “I raised you, not them. I gave up everything to make up for their loss, you don’t even know what they were like.”

Her words stung more than a slap, a righteous and petty anger bubbling up in Lana.

“You’ve always made me sound like a burden, like you’re some _fucking_ martyr for dropping everything to raise me,” Lana spat. “Do you want a gold metal or something? Go ahead, pat yourself on the back for doing the bare minimum to be a good person, you spiteful _bitch_!”

Taking a deep breath, Nell wouldn’t meet Lana’s eyes.

“I’m so disappointed in you,” she said. “You have until morning to pack what you can. I never want to see you under my roof again.”

“It’s not even your roof, my parents left this house for me.”

Lana felt brave finally confronting Nell, but every ounce of courage drained from her as her aunt stepped across the hall and slapped her across the cheek. The force of the back of Nell’s hand sent her to the floor, the sting took a moment to register as adrenaline coursed through her veins. A terrible silence fell over the two as the weight of eighteen years lifted from Lana’s shoulders. The moment of weightlessness was quickly overtaken as a new kind of dread filled her up. A terrible feeling she’d made a mistake.

She’d finally said her piece, but it had given her anything but peace.

Looking back up, Lana watched her aunt with tearful eyes. She starred down at her, the same look she gave her a million times as a child when throwing a tantrum. It was a look that said it all.

_Why are you my problem?_

Letting the slap speak as her last word, Nell turned and stepped over Lana to walk back down the stairs. The silence was crushing as Lana gently grazed her cold finger tips over the burning skin of her cheek, tears overflowing and finally dripping down her face. It felt like minutes or hours she just sat there on the hallway floor, looking ahead but not seeing.

Shock and fear swirled within her before slowly solidifying into anger. It didn’t burn as hot as the righteousness that made Lana bold enough to confront her Aunt Nell like that. It was a sure anger, an easy to hold anger, an anger that pushed her to finally stand and take the few short steps to her bedroom.

Holding onto the door frame, she looked at the spirit as it turned from the mess that her room had become. Blinking as her eyes refocused, Lana watched the spirit as it reached out to her, backlit by the afternoon sun. She looked down, brow furrowed as she looked down at her hands. In her chapped but finally clean hands was a yellow blossom, hundreds of petals all bowed to the center of it all. Looking back up at the blank face in front of her, Lana slowly nodded and followed her in, the door clicking shut behind them.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM BABY  
> I had so much fun writing this that I had to get it all out, so early new chapter!  
> Also wanted to say thank you to everyone who's been so patient with chapters going from near daily to every couple weeks since NaNoWriMo ended. I love writing this fic so much and getting into the nitty gritty and hearing everyone's thoughts. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your support.

All Clark really wanted anymore was a sense of normalcy. While he’d always wished to be a normal kid, after the chaos his life had descended into it had become his sole goal. It didn’t matter if he finally got to go out with Lana, if he got into MetU next year, if he ever found out what he really was. Now, he’d trade it all to just be a kid for a little bit longer. Trying to capture some of that normal kid feeling, Clark had rushed through his afternoon chores and promised to be home by dinner before rushing back into town.

The Beanery was as as busy as always, a blonde girl running the register as Clark walked up to order something warm to drink. The temperature was finally letting go of the summer heat and a chill settled over the little town as the sun slowly set.

After getting his cup, Clark navigated around tables and patrons to find his own little seat and set his coffee to the side. It was nice to sip as he read through his English homework, a happy distraction every once in a while when he felt his brain start to go blank. Even in his senior year, he hadn’t gotten the hang of studying and keeping his mind on one track.

It was almost infuriating at times when Clark was trying to keep his grades up. He got by just fine doing the bare minimum of his English assignments, yet found himself more inclined to utterly binge a whole book on the most useless topics.

Taking a deep breath, Clark tossed the folded assignment sheet he’d started using as a bookmark between the pages of the library book and dropped the whole thing back in his bag. The bell above the entrance jangled as he drained the last of his coffee and took a deep breath, shaking his head. Scanning the shop, his eyes stopped as he met Pete’s gaze.

A look of relief crossed his friend’s face and Pete zipped across the shop.

“I was hoping you were here.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” Clark asked, leaning his arms against the table top.

“Have you seen Chloe?” Pete asked, his eyes darting around the shop.

Clark’s stomach tied in knots as the panic his Pete’s voice registered.

“Not since school got out, why?”

“We were supposed to meet up after I finished coaching this afternoon.” Pete paused, running a tongue over his bottom lip as he thought. “Look, I know you don’t like that we’ve been looking into Lex, and you know how I feel about the Luthor’s but… Clark, I didn’t join Chloe because I wanted to get on the ground floor of some big exposé. I joined her because I saw her running herself into the ground over this story. She became so absorbed overnight, I’ve never seen her get _that_ into something. It was…”

The way Pete trailed off worried Clark. If he was being honest, he hadn’t been paying much attention to Chloe beyond the fact that he thought what she was doing was wrong, but this was something completely different.

“I haven’t been able to be there much with my senior project and I’m scared, Clark,” he admitted. “I don’t know where she is.”

The knots in Clark’s stomach tightened painfully. He took a deep breath, grabbing his backpack and zipping it shut. He threw a couple dollars tip on the table and stood.

“I’ve got it, Pete,” he said. “Where were you supposed to meet?”

“My place, she was going to meet me there before we followed one of her leads.” Pete said, standing and following Clark to the counter.

Turning on his farm boy charm, Clark beamed a smile to the blonde girl running the register and made up some story about needing to check in with his folks, needing to borrow the landline, and shuffled into the corner by the pick-up counter to make a couple calls. First was the Torch office. Pete had already checked, but both prayed he just missed Chloe on a bathroom break.

It went straight to voicemail.

Next was Chloe’s house.

“Hello?” Mr. Sullivan picked up, his usual chipper tone lined with exhaustion.

“Hi, Mr. Sullivan. Is Chloe there?” Clark asked, his voice cracking with anxiety.

“Uh, no. No, Chloe isn’t here,” he said. “Is everything okay, Clark?”

“We were supposed to meet up to study at The Beanery. You haven’t heard from her at all?” He asked.

“No. Clark, you don’t think-”

“Wait, no, I see her now. Guess she was just running later.” Clark said quickly, exchanging confused looks with Pete.

“Oh, well, that’s good. Tell her I say hi and to keep in better trust. I didn’t get her that beeper for nothing.” Mr. Sullivan said, the relief clear in his voice.

“Yeah, bye.”

Clark hung up and quickly returned the phone, pulling Pete outside with him.

“This is going to be easier if we split up to look for her,” he said.

“Where are we even supposed to look?” Pete snapped, his temper growing short as panic started to win out. “Clark, she never told me where this new lead was. Besides the school and her place, where do we even look?”

“I don’t know… but…”

The two exchanged a look, the same fear when Chloe had been attacked at the school plain on their faces.

***

Even as worried as Chloe was about her friends, she couldn’t just put off her responsibilities at the Torch. Or at least that’s what she’d thought before the phone call. The sun was setting fast as she drove her little red car into the wooded area at the edge of Smallville, the road descending into darkness. It was a single focus now, her friends and paper didn’t matter. She had a report to give.

It had taken so long to get her wall of research all pulled down and collected in their organized files. It was a months worth of research, every piece she could find on the Alexanders and the fishy circumstances the dynasty of Lionel Luthor, charitable father and businessman. Those files sat in the passenger seat, so tempting to almost pull Chloe’s attention away from the road.

Pulling up to the gates of the Luthor mansion, she simply rolled down her car window and looked out and up at the security camera. The gates buzzed, slowly opening on their own. She sat back, rolling the window up, and pulled in. One of the night staff was already waiting for Chloe at the front door, greeting her by name before they walked the winding path through the great home.

She landed in a familiar sitting room, two black leather sofas facing each other among the display cases. It was always overwhelming, each case filled to the brim with ancient weaponry. Morning-stars, long swords, shields, helmets, suits of armor, intricately carved pieces that could have paid Chloe’s way through university and a couple years rent in Metropolis. It was more unnerving a display than it was impressive.

Not letting herself dwell too much on it, Chloe took a seat on one of the couches and set her files beside her. Usually, she was left waiting there for the better part of an hour, looking at her watch and just hoping she’d get home before dinner. But something must have been different that night.

It was mere minutes before Lex joined Chloe in the sitting room, walking through the doors bleary eyed and sipping from a coffee tumbler. Watching it, an ache began forming in the back of Chloe’s mind. Her first thought was how this was the first time she saw Lex in such a state. This was quickly followed up by the thought that this was her first time ever seeing Lex Luthor, how did she even know what he usually looked like?

Shaking the thoughts loose, Chloe scooped up her files and stood, walking over with a hand extended.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Luthor,” she said. “It’s everything you asked for; all my research, including original copies.”

She held the stack out to Lex, her movement’s almost robotic. Internally, she was screaming at the idea of handing everything over but knew it as for the best. He looked over Chloe, a look somewhere between indifference and concern. It was an odd look, she thought, for someone she’d never met.

“What about digital copies?” He asked, reaching out to take the files.

“What few I had are gone. Since I was assaulted I tried to keep everything as untraceable as possible.” Chloe blurted out.

Lex blinked, shaking his head before taking a long drink from his tumbler. After a moment, he flipped open the top file and read over the first page. He ran his tongue over his front teeth before clearing his throat.

“What about any related work? I heard from a reliable source you did some looking in on your friend, Clark.”

Chloe’s throat started to close up, anxiety clawing as her stomach and lungs.

“I… I-I don’t- Shit-”

Shaking her head, she ran a hand over her eyes as the throbbing started to grow. She wanted to say no, she didn’t want Clark’s private files to end up in the Luthor’s hands. But how different was it from her having them? She’d dug through his life behind his back already.

“I don’t have them with me, they’re at my house.” She said.

Lex sighed, nodding slowly.

“Okay, well, unless there’s anything you haven’t shared ye-”

“I think Clark was kidnapped as a child.”

The room went silent as Lex looked over Chloe, his brows slowly pinching together in confusion. He blinked, thoughts running behind his eyes before be cleared his throat again.

“I’m sorry?”

“I believe his adoption through Metropolis United Charities was falsified like yours, I believe the Kent’s got him through your father,” she explained. “And there’s something… something wrong. Clark won’t tell me, he swears his parents found him on the side of the road as a baby and just didn’t report him as a missing child but…”

“But?” Lex prompted.

“I did… more digging into the Kent’s.”

She wanted to shut up with every ounce of her being, but Chloe couldn’t stop the words from coming out. Part of her wondered if any of this was a good idea, if telling Lex the truth may actually help Clark. Obviously, there was a part of him not inclined to his father, he’d hired her to investigate his own adoption after finding out about her interest in the conspiracy.

“What could two farmers possibly be hiding?” Lex asked, his tone dismissive but face falling into a perfectly composed poker face.

“Martha wasn’t always a farmer’s wife,” she said. “Martha’s father is William Clark, your father’s former lawyer.”

That statement alone was enough to break Lex’s poker face. He gaped for a moment, mouth opening and closing for a minute before turning from the girl and sitting on one of the leather couches. Out of habit, he took several deep breaths and ran a hand over his face. This wasn’t what he’d expected out of trying to find dirt on his father or mentoring the supernatural anomaly of a kid that was Clark Kent.

“Don’t worry about this.” He said, trying to put some energy behind his words. “You aren’t worried at all about this, you don’t know anything except what Clark told you.”

Looking up at Chloe, Lex watched as her eyes went blank and slowly started to nod.

“You’re going to go home, you’re going to destroy your records on Clark, and you’re going to forget you ever talked to me or met me.”

As he uttered those words, putting everything he had into compelling her, Lex watched as Chloe’s face screwed up and she suddenly went slack. She fell quickly, barely reaching the floor before Lex caught her by the waist.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

Slipping an arm under her knees, he picked up Chloe’s limp form and carried her over to one of the couches, laying her carefully. He quickly walked into the hall and caught a maid hurrying by with her head down by the arm.

“Go get Darius, let him know our guest needs an escort home,” he explained. “She’d to return home in one piece and unseen. Oh, and she has some files on Mr. Kent he should do a search for, if possible.”

The woman nodded, her blonde ponytail bobbing before she was released and hurried down the hall. Her heels clacked against the stone floor as she disappeared around the corner.

Taking a deep breath, Lex looked back at the passed out form on his couch and shook his head. He’d worried something like this would happen after near weekly meetings with the girl. Wiping her memory of him and their arrangement as thoroughly as possible so often was risky, but hopefully this was the end to their arrangement.

Lex scooped up the stack of bulging files and his tumbler of blood and stepped out into the hall. He started down the hall to his library, mind mulling over the facts he’d learned already. There was a lot to process, and he had a lot of reading to do. There was a lot to consider moving forwards with Clark, especially as the Kent family was now in on his work with him.

He swallowed another mouthful of blood, sighing as he opened the library door. The stained glass wall glowed with the last remnants of day, violet turning deep blue. Lex hated waking up so early in the night, but the sooner he ended things with Chloe the better. Perhaps it had been a mistake to enlist Clark’s own best friend, but Nixon had been a disappointment. There was no way he could have trusted that weasel with his own past.

But now he had it.

There was probably nothing in these files that could hold up in a court of law, but Lex couldn’t care less about his day in court. He wanted to put a story to that face, jog something that may finally settle this life of wondering.

Before settling at his desk, Lex approached the built in bookcase just off to the left of the fireplace, right beside his desk. With a free hand, he ran his fingers across the spines of his books, stopping at an old tome. The copy of Dracula had been a gift from a long ago acquaintance. A smirk pulled at the corner of Lex’s lips. If he didn’t find his own means of entertainment, he’d die of boredom in this empty place. Pulling the book from it’s place, he stepped back and watched the bookcase pop out from it’s place, slowly creaking open on a set of hinges.

Lex pushed the door open further before stepping up to the wall and placing his hand against a scan pad. After a moment, it beeped and the second door clicked and wired before swinging open inward. The vault was fairly empty, save for a few important documents laying on the shelves. Stepping inside, Lex dropped the new pile in an empty space and stepped back out, pulling the inner door back into place.

As he replaced the bookcase and the copy of Dracula, Lex’s cellphone began buzzing in his dress pants pocket. Whipping it out, the little screen on the front read Kent Farm. He flipped it open and hit the answer button before bringing it up to his ear.

“He-”

“Lex, I’m sorry for calling this early for you,” Clark said.

He sounded flustered, nearly panicked.

“Clark, what’s wrong?” He said, pacing in front of his desk.

“It’s… it’s Chloe.”

The relief was immediate. Clark was safe, he had just caught wind of Chloe’s disappearing act.

“She’s been acting weird lately,” he explained. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious, but she’s missing and we’re worried. Could… could one of your people…”

“I’ll have someone out looking for her, don’t worry.” Lex said, watching out the window as Darius carried the unconscious Chloe out to her car. “I’ll call you when we find her, but don’t hold your breath. She’ll be just fine.”

“Lex… Thank you, so much.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “Goodnight, Clark.”

“Night, Lex.” Clark said, the apprehension clear before he hung up.

As soon as the call was over, Lex pressed speed dial and brought the phone back up to his ear. It only took one ring before Darius picked up, looking from his place in the driveway to the windows of the library.

“Yes, Mr. Luthor?”

“Call me when you drop Ms. Sullivan off, we have people waiting on her.”


	37. Chapter 37

Warm sunlight bled through Lana’s eyelids, rousing her from a deep slumber as she groaned and buried her head deeper under her pillows. It was so warm and cozy under the duvet and she refused to get up before at least noon. But still, the knot of anxiety from the night before twisted in her chest.

Opening her eyes, Lana looked around her room as memories trickled back. The circle of salt was still there, grains seeping into her carpet as a pile of yellow petals and ash sat at it’s center. She remembered the specter's words, her guiding hands showing Lana the mechanics of the spell, the loosening of something within her. The pure exhaustion that took her after, barely making the few steps to her bed to get some sleep.

Now, she wondered if it was a better idea to pack a bag just in case.

_No._

She couldn’t think like that. After the things Lana had seen over the weeks, she couldn’t go back to thinking what if’s. So, taking a deep breath, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and started tiptoeing into the hallway. From the top of the stairs, she could hear the sounds of cooking and the radio playing. Even for a normal Saturday morning, that wasn’t usual Aunt Nell behavior.

With tentative steps, Lana started down the steps and peeked into the kitchen. Sure enough, there her aunt stood. Nell was making pancakes, scooping up one and setting it on a warm baking sheet in the oven below as she hummed along to the radio.

Lana cleared her throat, ready to run if Nell came at her with the spatula.

“Morning, sweetie.” She said, smiling kindly. “Go sit down, I’ll get you a plate fixed up.”

Nodding slowly, Lana walked through the kitchen to the dining room and sat at her usual spot. There was syrup and preserves already out, the butter dish sitting next to Lana’s seat. She was never much for sugar in the morning, Nell seemed to remember this.

There was quickly placed a short stack in front of her before her aunt sat across from Lana with her own. There was a few moments of quiet as Lana dressed her cakes with melty pats of butter and dug in. Nell at hers like she was ravenous, a different preserve on each pancake and all dipped in a little butter.

Growing up, she told Lana stories about how she and her mother would eat Sunday pancakes with her grandparents and drain half a bottle of syrup alone between them. She must have gotten her father’s taste, never having a taste for too much sweet even as a child.

The silence was broke at last as Nell set aside her knife and poked at her last piece.

“So, Homecoming has really creeped up on us,” she said. “Do you have a date yet?”

“Uh, no.” Lana said, swirling a pat of butter on top of a pancake with her fork. “I’m actually thinking of going with friends.”

“Oh, do I get to hear about these elusive friends?”

It was so weird to have a civil conversation with Nell for the first time in longer than Lana cared to admit. Even before she’d quit cheer and broken up with Whitney, things had been tense. She couldn’t think of a time since she was twelve that things hadn’t been laced with the underlying implication she was a burden on her family.

“Um, well, Clark Kent’s going to be there.” Lana said, setting aside her fork. “And Chloe Sullivan and Pete Ross.”

“That’s nice, sweetheart.” Nell said, popping the last bite of pancake in her mouth. “Well, make sure you finish your homework and we can go look at some dresses after I finish up at the flower shop today.”

“I thought the shop was closed, you haven’t opened it in months,” Lana said.

Nell sighed deeply, running her fork through the left over pools of syrup on her plate.

“Well, the move to Metropolis is going to cost a pretty penny, even with my new position. But there’s someone interested in the property.”

“Wait, the whole lot?” Lana said, her blood going cold. “But… but dad’s theater!”

“I know, Lana, but we can’t keep holding onto the past like that. It’s not healthy, eventually you have to move on.” She said, some of the previous edge coming back into her voice. “But since moving into town, the Luthor estate has been talking about investing in Smallville, and if he can do something with the old place then it’ll be good for the town.”

“Wait, but-” Lana shrank back at the way Nell’s eyes focused on her, clearing her throat. “I just… I just don’t want to see it torn down.”

“I know, no one’s going to be happy to see it go, but that’s progress.” Nell explained, picking up her plate and walking back into the kitchen. “Which would you rather, this little town dry up and disappear or we finally take the small out of Smallville?”

Sighing, Lana cut into her last pancake and brought a piece up to her mouth. She wanted to finish her plate, but her appetite was waining.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said.

Dropping her fork, she carried her plate back to the kitchen and started to help putting things away. Nell didn’t argue with the help, eventually slipping out and up the stairs to her own room. Lana peeked up after her, waiting till she heard the master bedroom door shut and stuffed her hands down her sweatpants pocket. A few petals were still intact and she sprinkled them into the pools of syrup left on the plate.

Stirring them in, Lana whispered the words the specter taught her the night before until each petal was coated in sticky amber. She waited a moment and listened, waiting until she heard Nell coming back down the stairs to rinse away the evidence of her deeds.

“I think I’m going to go ride Harold for a bit.” She said, slipping by her aunt.

“Oh, well, tell the Kent’s hi if you see them.”

“Will do!” Lana called back at she ran up the stairs.

As soon as she was in her room, Lana did a once over around her room and took in the mess. It was going to take her a while to clean up, the amalgam of candles and mess rubbed into her carpet a clear threat to whatever wool she’d pulled over Nell’s eyes. Taking a deep breath, she started collecting the candles while tip toeing around salt and ash, sliding them under her bed and in empty drawers.

It wasn’t long before she heard her aunt leave for town and Lana went out to get the vacuum from the hall closet. In minutes, her room looked perfectly normal, only some faint patches of grey giving away anything was wrong. She’d think of an excuse to give Nell later, but now she was ready to ride. She quickly got dressed and threw a coat over her riding attire before hurrying out the backdoor and onto the Kent property.

The air was crisp and cold against Lana’s cheeks, filling her lungs as she took deep breaths. It felt so good, a cleanness she knew would never come from Metropolis air. As a kid, she’d wondered what living in the big city would be like. After actually visiting on school trips, she quickly got over those fantasies. There was a polish and glamour to the big city that Lana had finally seen through when the class walked through the bustling streets. Sure, it was nicer and had far less crime than Gotham, but that didn’t change the way exhaust hung in the air and the streets filled with people who didn’t care if they stepped on your foot. It wasn’t like Smallville.

“Lana?” A familiar voice called out from the field.

Turning from her straight path to the stables, Lana smiled and waved as she saw Clark setting down a shovel and gallon bucket. Even from there, she could smell the signature smell of cow patties on the wind.

“Hey, Clark,” she said.

“Hey, going for a ride again?” He asked, walking over as he pulled off his work gloves.

“Yeah, I don’t know how many we have left before…” She shook her head, taking a deep breath. “Hey, did you know the Luthor’s were going to buy the old movie theater?”

Clark’s brow furrowed, one of his large hands running through his shaggy hair. The poor guy was in perpetual need of a cut, even after Mrs. Kent went at his mop with some clippers.

“Uh, no, I had no clue,” he said. “We don’t really talk about… business.”

“Really?” Lana asked, watching the way the sun seemed to illuminate him from behind. “What do you two talk about?”

“Uh, just, um…” Clark floundered for words, his eyes falling from Lana’s.

“Sorry, that was intrusive,” she said quickly. “It’s just odd to see from the outside. Big city heir to a fortune five hundred company and the boy next door become best friends in a small farming community, sounds like some kind of fantasy.”

They chuckled together, Clark rubbing the back of his neck as he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I’d, uh, better get to Harold.” Lana said, pointing back over her shoulder at the stables.

“Yeah, tell him hi for me.” Clark said, smiling.

Laughing, Lana gave a little wave as she turned and started walking back. She was a good couple yards away when an idea struck her, freezing her feet in place before she turned back quickly.

“Hey, Clark?”

“Yeah?” He asked, looking up as he slipped his work gloves back on.

“Do you think you could find out what Lex plans to do with the theater?” She asked. “I mean, if you’re okay with asking.”

“Why are you so interested in is?” Clark asked, his head tilting to the side curiously.

“It, uh… it was my dad’s.” Lana explained, tucking some loose hair behind her head. “His dad started the theater when the Lang’s came to Smallville. I was thinking… maybe it could become something great again if he’s not bulldozing it.”

A smile crept across Clark’s face as he listened. The place had closed when they were all babies, few really talked about the old building. But Lana was still holding a torch for it.

“Yeah, I’ll try and put in a word for you,” he said. “But it’s going to be up to you to convince Lex.”

Lana mirrored his excited smile, nodding.

“Yeah, okay… Thank you!” She cheered, waving before turning and hurrying back to the stables.

***

Pain. It was sheer pain. A deep throbbing that permeated Chloe’s whole body. Her breath was shuttering as she slowly became aware of the world around her. It was so bright, so achingly sunny as her ears rang. She tried to take a breath and sit up, but could barely push herself onto her back. The click of the doorknob unlatching might as well have been a gunshot as Chloe groaned in agony, trying to block on the sound with her hands.

“Shhh, sh-sh-sh, it’s okay, angel.” Her father said, pressing a blessedly cold hand against her forehead. “Oh, dear, you’re burning up.”

“Too loud…” She managed to groan, bringing her arm over her eyes.

She listened as her father walked around the bed and shutter her window, the room finally falling into a comfortable darkness.

“How are you feeling?” Mr. Sullivan asked, his voice a hushed whisper.

“Like I was hit by a semi,” Chloe said. “What happened…?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me. Clark said you were out studying with him and then when I was getting ready for bed I found you here.” He said, sighing. “Come on, try and drink something and take your medicine.”

“Dad…”

“Come on, pumpkin.”

With little protest, Chloe let herself be propped up and knocked back a little cup of nasty cold medicine. She coughed and sputtered, running her tongue across the roof of her mouth.

“You couldn’t get cherry or grape?” She quipped.

Mr. Sullivan chuckled, helping Chloe take a sip of hot tea before setting it on her bedside table.

“Well, at least you’re in good spirits. Can’t be too sick, then.”

Chloe tried to smile, squeezing her dad’s hand and taking a deep breath.

“Now, get some sleep. We can try and get some food in you after the medicine does it’s magic.” He said, leaning in to leave a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay, dad.”

Settling back down, Chloe watched her father leave, the door silently shutting and his footsteps growing quieter and quieter down the hall. As soon as she couldn’t hear him anymore, she forced herself up and looked around the room. The first thing that was off was the fact that she was still dressed. Her sweater was neatly folded on the back of her desk chair, but red camisole and low rise jeans were still on. Next was how neatly her bag and phone were set on her desk instead of dropped the first place she could leave them.

As quickly as she could, Chloe stripped off her jeans and slipped into a pair of sweats, grabbing her phone and settling back into bed. The bright screen was searing to the eyes, but she persisted to go through her contacts. She was supposed to see Pete yesterday, he had to have some idea about what happened.

Clicking on his home phone number, she held the phone just away from her ear and listened to each ring. Finally, there was a click and a familiar voice came through.

“Ross residence, Abigail speaking.”

“Hi, Mrs. Ross. It’s Chloe.” Chloe said, forcing herself to speak at a normal volume. “Is Pete home?”

“Sorry, you just missed him. He’s on his way to a meet with the team,” Abigail said. “I’ve been meaning to tell you thank you, Chloe. Pete’s really taking a shine to coaching, he actually started talking about keeping it up when he started college next year.”

“It’s nothing, Mrs. Ross. Pete’s done a lot for me over the years, it’s what friends do.” Chloe said, taking a deep breath. “Um, when he gets back can you tell him I called?”

“Of course. You have a good day.”

“You too.”

Pulling the phone away from her ear, she clapped shut the flip phone and took a deep breath. Yeah, that was on her not to even think he’d be busy. Pete had become so much more busy as time went on, finding his own footing away from Clark and Chloe. Yet she’d still relied on him to help with the investigation.

Taking a deep breath, she peeked at the digital alarm clock on her night stand. She swore under her breath before grabbing the cup of warm tea and taking a long drink. No wonder her father had been worried; the ace reporter, Chloe Sullivan, rarely slept passed noon.

Once she set the cup back down, she snapped open her phone again and clicked on the next number. It took several rings until someone picked up, long enough she swore the answering machine should have picked up.

“Hello?” Mrs. Kent said.

Chloe’s stomach clenched, her head starting to swim. It hadn’t been a week since the awkward encounter with the Kent’s, since she’d started worrying about Clark’s safety, but hopefully Mrs. Kent could compartmentalize that experience as well as Chloe did. Clearing her throat, she spoke up after a beat and tried to keep her tone natural but upbeat.

“Hi, is Clark home?” She asked, keeping things direct.

“Oh, Chloe…” Mrs. Kent said. “Yes, he actually just got in from the field. Clark?”

There was a muffled exchange of words and finally someone began to speak.

“Hey,” Clark said.

“Where was I last night?” Chloe said, her words starting to unravel before she could stop them. “Dad said I was with you and Pete studying but I know for a fact we never had plans for that. What happened with Pete? I can’t remember anything, Clark.”

“Uh, well, it…” Clark sputtered for a moment before she heard a door close in the background and he cleared his throat. “We don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“We didn’t find you, Chloe,” he said. “Chloe, Pete and I were waiting for you to figure out what happened. He came to me because you just disappeared. It… it was Lex who found you. I mean, his people.”

“His people?” She echoed. “What does that even mean? Why did _Lex’s people_ find me?”

“You just up and disappeared on us, we searched everywhere in town and you were just…” Clark took a deep breath before he continued. “Chloe, I know no one really likes the Luthor’s but Lex isn’t that bad. I asked for a favor when we couldn’t find you. He didn’t give any details last night, it was so late when they finally got you home.”

“How do you know they didn’t have me in the first place?” She asked, more out of curiosity than actual accusation.

The line went quiet, so quiet Chloe thought the call might have dropped, before Clark sighed.

“I don’t know what Lex has to do for people to not assume he’s some bad guy, but I promise you he’s not like that,” he said.

“Clark, why do you go so hard to bat for someone you barely know? Would you do that for me or Pete?”

“Of course!” He snapped. “I… I’m sorry, it’s just… It’s another thing I can’t talk about.”

“Do you know how much this looks like one big conspiracy from the outside?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Clark, I can’t remember anything after we talked last night.” Chloe said, her voice small and quiet.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, dripping down and falling into the shell of her ears as she laid against her pillow.

“I feel like I was beat over the head and I can’t remember anything… Clark, I’m so scared,” Chloe admitted.

“I know, and I’m so sorry you’re in this situation.” Clark said, taking a shuddering breath. “I promise we’ll get to the bottom of this, okay?”

“Okay…”

“I love you, Chlo.”

“I love you, too, farm boy.”

There was finally some kind of levity as they chuckled together over the childish nicknames. It wasn’t much, but it was something as the tears started pouring down.

“Do you want me to stay on the line with you?” Clark asked.

“Nah, I don’t think I have the minutes for that.” Chloe said, wiping at her eyes. “I should try and get more sleep. Promise we’ll talk about this tomorrow?”

“Of course. Pete and I will be there.”

“Thank you.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me during the impromptu break, needed a break while I ran into some writing snags and got into revisions on a non-fic project. But I have everything up to the end finally plotted and will keep updating.

Clark counted down the minutes until he could see Lex. Nothing about the day before settled well with him, like he didn’t have the whole picture. He didn’t see it, couldn’t see it, and that was the worst part of all. As soon as he finished up dinner with his folks, Clark announced he’d go see Lex later that night and went to take a nap. After how many days he’d slept well into the afternoon because of his midnight meetings with Lex, Clark had set his alarm for later in the night to get at least some rest in.

It was nearly one in the morning when he was roused by the beeping alarm, quickly shutting it off before it could wake his parents. The house was perfectly silent as he zoomed downstairs and picked up the landline from it’s cradle. It rang for a while before the other end picked up.

“Clark, great to hear from you again.” Lex said.

It wasn’t fair how excited Clark got when he heard Lex’s voice, that uncertain feeling washing away as he smiled.

“Hey, is it okay if I come over? I wanted to talk to you about last night.”

“Clark, you’re always welcome, but thank you for checking in,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few?”

“Yeah, see you.”

Clark hung up quickly, hurrying to the backdoor where his boots laid. He threw on the mud caked things before grabbing a warmer jacket and setting out. The silence of the night was familiar now, so calm but buzzing with the life of bugs and creatures. When he stopped at the side of the road, Clark could hear the soft steps of nocturnal creatures in the distance. Taking a deep breath, he breathed in the crisp night air. It filled his lungs and calmed his slowly fraying nerves, relaxing his muscles as Clark took a more human pace the rest of the way to Lex’s.

As usual, as soon as he made it to the gate he was quickly swept inside and to Lex’s library. The older man was sitting by the fire, eyes trained on the crackling flames in contemplation. In the quiet moment, a rare moment Clark caught Lex unaware, he looked so much younger than usual. The years of difference between eighteen and twenty-five were vast, but for once Clark saw just how new Lex was to this all. In human years, he was barely established in the world. Clark had no idea how it had been exactly since Lex was turned, but just by sheer virtue of his public persona, it couldn’t have been so long without the press noting how little he aged.

That thought caught Clark, making him face something he never considered before. How much more about vampire life did Lex know than he did? From what he’d seen of Chloe’s research, Lex had only just receded from public appearances to excuse his nocturnal habits.

“Oh, hey, Clark.” Lex said, his eyes finally tearing away from the fireplace. “I’m glad you came over.”

“Uh, yeah.” Clark said, meeting Lex halfway between the couch and the entrance. “Lex, I need to know about last night.”

“I can only tell you so much, it was Darius who found your friend,” he said. “When you can, I’d be happy to lend his services out to help you investigate.”

“Where did Darius find her? You were vague last night.”

Taking a deep breath, Lex paced back to the fire, his eyes training on the dancing flames.

“I only had the assurance she had made it home safe when I called out,” he explained. “She’d been asleep in her car, or – more like she’d been passed out. He found her on the side of the road just outside of town limits.”

Lex turned back to Clark, his brow drawn up like he was just as perplexed by the developments.

“Does Chloe have any enemies? History of behavior like this?” He asked.

“No– I mean… she can get absorbed in a story, but she’s rarely ruffled enough feathers to get a response like this.” Clark said, sitting as the leather crunched beneath him and held his face in his hands.

“Rarely?”

Looking up, Clark met Lex’s stormy grey eyes.

“I-I mean…” He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, thinking over his words before he got too flustered. “You know about… about what happened last month.”

“Clark, is there anything you aren’t telling me?” Lex asked, sitting beside him.

“There was this kid,” he said. “Freshman year, he was one of the science teachers kids. Chloe had just taken over at the Torch and was doing a profile on her.”

“Let me guess, she dug in deeper than appropriate?”

“Turns out the teacher had been in witness protection, she’d taken a deal after getting arrested for assisting in the destruction of an animal testing facility back in the eighties,” Clark explained. “Her son had no idea, freaked out on Chloe and swore she’d regret ruining his family. Then one day, they were just gone.”

Lex scoffed, shaking his head.

“Well, that’s a place to start.” Lex said, squeezing Clark’s shoulder and smiling gently. “I promise I’ll have the best investigators I can on this. Chloe’s case won’t be closed until we find out what happened.”

“You don’t have to do this again, Lex.” Clark said, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. “I already owe you so much–“

“You don’t owe me anything.” Lex said, flashing him a smile. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Clark couldn’t help but roll his eyes, shaking his head as he chuckled.

“What?” Lex asked in mock offense. “So you can try saving my life out of the kindness of your heart, but I can’t learn from your example?”

“Why does it feel like this is some kind of set up?” Clark asked, turning his cheerful grin at Lex. “Come on, where’s the camera? I’ve always wanted to be on Candid Camera.”

Lex burst into laughter, leaning back on the couch as his body shook. It was an infectious laugh, more relaxed and light than anything Clark had witnessed before. For the first time, he really caught him off guard in a good way. The two dissolved into laughter together, the mood finally lightening.

As the laughing fit trickled into gasps for air and the occasional snort that would send them back into hysterics, Lex took a deep breath and stood, patting Clark’s shoulder before strolling over to his standing bar.

“You know, I’m glad I ended up in Smallville. This place is starting to grow on me,” he said.

“It’s no Metropolis, but I think it’s alright.”

Pouring two glasses of thick blood, Lex brought them over as he sat across from Clark. He set the second glass in front of him before leaning back and taking a long sip.

“It’s quiet, quiet’s nice.” He said after running his tongue over his bloodstained teeth. “Speaking of quiet, isn’t homecoming coming up?”

Clark chuckled awkwardly, warmth run up his neck and face.

“Uh, yeah.” Clark said, sighing. “It is.”

“What, no date to the dance?” Lex asked.

“Honestly, everything with friend’s has been so wild I don’t even know if everyone is on the same page about if we’re going or not,” he said. “I thought we were going as a group but with Chloe… I’m not sure.”

The room grew still as the two grew quiet. There was so much unsaid, a tension growing neither were acknowledging, and Lex realized what a minefield Clark’s life really was. Whatever he wasn’t telling him, Lex was hiding something twice as bad. He ripped his mind from that box of emotions and pushed it back to be dealt with later. Clearing his throat, he scooted to the edge of his seat and tried to catch Clark’s eyes.

“You know, I’m going to be checking in with Dr. Hamilton this week.” He said, swirling his glass absentmindedly.

“Lex-”

“I know, but you said you would think about it,” he said. “Please don’t think I’m trying to pressure you, and don’t take this as a quid pro quo. But I need to ask you something.”

Clark didn’t speak up, watching Lex with a conflicted yet curious look.

“Do you want to do this? Do you want to know why you’re different?” Lex asked. “If you do, I’m going to help you. We’ll do everything on your terms, even work it out so Dr. Hamilton can pay you a house call. I’ll be there with your parents the whole time. If you don’t…”

He paused, looking up at Clark through his lashes. He truly looked his age in that moment, the visage of adulthood that was oozing childish confusion around the edges. By all accounts, Clark was a young adult, but he looked just as lost and confused as Lex had at that age. For a brief moment, Lex wondered how anyone could make it through eighteen. How anyone could deal with the crushing reality of the responsibilities slowly being placed on their shoulders when they’re barely done growing up? He’d barely made it himself.

“I’ll never bring it up again.”

Clark swallowed thickly, nodding slowly.

“I want to know,” he said.

A smile pulled at the corner of Lex’s lips, pulling them into a lopsided smile.

“I promise I’ll be there every step of the way,” he said.

“When…?”

Clark didn’t have to elaborate.

“I’ll check in with him. The good doctor has been processing some control genetics, looking at vampire DNA. I have a feeling yours is going to look very similar, but who knows.” Lex mused, leaning back in his seat and sipping his blood.

“DNA…?” Clark muttered, the thought ruminating in his mind. “So it’s… it’s more like a different species than supernatural?”

“I’ll be honest, I have no goddamn idea.” Lex said, chuckling halfheartedly. “But we’re going to find out. I never really… died when I was turned. It was just very, very close.”

As he spoke, Lex’s attention seemed to zero in on his glass, holding it up in the light of the fireplace. The flames reflected so beautifully in the crystal, Clark couldn’t help but be entranced as well before his attention returned to Lex. His grey eyes looked clouded and far away, more like he was focusing beyond the glass itself.

“How were you turned?” Clark asked, the question slipping out before he even realized what he was saying.

Lex’s gaze flicked sharply to Clark, pinning him to the spot with the intensity. For that split second, his heart skipped a beat and breath hitched in his chest as the feeling washed over him. For that one moment, Clark wondered if Lex had ever considered how different his blood was from a humans. But then Lex relaxed around the edges and brought the glass to his lips, taking a deep drink.

“I think that’s a story for another night.” He said after a minute. “Besides, you’ve got that look on your face like something’s distracting you.”

“What look?” Clark said, his brow knitting together in defiance of the look.

Lex laughed, the tension of before totally melting away at last. A knot was still tight in Clark’s stomach as he watched Lex, fidgeting with his own glass.

“Forget that, what’s bothering you so much?” He asked.

Taking a deep breath, Clark thought back to his conversation with Lana. It felt like he was asking Lex another favor, another thing to potentially owe him for. That thought jarred Clark a little. This friendship had started on the basis that Clark wouldn’t be payed back for just doing the right thing, and Lex had started adopting that attitude with him. There was no saying if Lex was always that generous, but the fact that he was with Clark was at least something considering how things had started.

“It’s Lana,” he admitted.

“Of course, it is. And how is she?” Lex asked.

“Well… well, actually, she told me you were buying the local theater.” Clark said, looking back at him.

“I’d love to know how she knows that.” He said, leaning forward in his seat. “Clark, why does Lana know about my business inquiries?”

“Oh, well, it’s actually her families theater,” he said. “She said she wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Huh,” he said. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“Interesting how?” Clark asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Oh, just getting used to the small town life.” He chuckled, swirling his glass. “You know what, I’m curious. Let Lana know if she’s got some kind of business proposal or wants to persuade me not to buy, she’s going to have to talk to me herself. Besides, I think sending you as the messenger might get old.”

“Really?”

Leaning back, Lex raised his glass in cheers.

“Of course.”

Clark smiled, raising his own before taking a deep drink.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so this chapter was really hard to write until I finally just banged out the last thousand words and suddenly it was working. This chapter is more bloody than others, as a warning, but we're setting up how much growth Lex has to do, so strap in for some shit.

The talk with Clark stuck with Lex through out that night. It was a creeping feeling under his skin, a feeling that made him sick to his stomach. He hated that feeling. It was the feeling that drove him up the wall the rest of the night until he forced himself to sleep and forget everything. Everything except his responsibility to Clark.

Oh, that was just as infuriating at this point. He’d begun prodding at sore spots for Lex, a near precision at pushing on the bruise of his past. If he’d been anyone else, Lex would have just stopped taking his calls and made his way out of Smallville if that didn’t work. But he was the kid’s only connection to the supernatural world, the only person to see and want to understand what made him so different. Or, at least, the only person with the resources to help him understand why he was so different. It was an unfortunately great difference, he was realizing after several weeks in the farming community.

The next day, Lex took his breakfast in the library as always, sipping on week old refrigerated blood. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as something fresh from the artery. He sighed, thumbing through reports and contracts from LuthorCorp before tossing them aside. With the restless itch under his skin, the only thing Lex could keep any focus on was getting on the road. The pull to the empty stretches of road, occasionally broken up by farms and family homes, was so tempting. Lex wanted to go, he needed to get away just for a little bit.

He stood quickly, walking with a purpose from the library to the entrance. Through the halls, there was the sound of his echoing footsteps over the running of night staff to make it there first. Unsurprisingly, in the entrance hall was a flustered looking woman in the usual uniform, her blonde bob swaying over her shoulders as her chest rose and fell quickly. She held out his jacket and driving gloves, eyes carefully poised down.

Taking his things, Lex looked over the young woman before sighing and stepping out. Darius just pulled up with the Porsche as he stepped out, the sleek blue paint job almost glowing under the moon. As his body guard walked around the car, Lex gave as easy going a smile he could before approaching.

“I’ll be heading out on my own, just checking on some business in town.

“Of course, sir.”

With that, Lex slipped into the drivers seat and made his way out onto those long, empty roads. It was such a quick trip, speeding down Smallville and making it to the little shack of a medical practice on the other side of town. Dust billowed about him as Lex parked in front, waiting a minute for it to settle before he started his way up to the front door and knocking. It was not a shock when he was greeted again by a shotgun, Dr. Hamilton looking around the emptiness around them before waving Lex in. There was little hesitation to guide Lex from the lobby, ending up in more of an office meets file room this time.

Dr. Hamilton sat behind a modest desk, a regular lamp already illuminating the surface. The windows behind and to the left were covered, black plastic taped around them. As he stood behind the simple wood chairs in front of the desk, Lex eyed the coverings before his gaze flicked back to the man of the hour. Dr. Hamilton was the last person to be caught unaware in a world of vampires and monsters, but his actions spoke with more than a healthy helping of paranoid. It almost made Lex ache for the man, seeing how different knowing what goes bump in the night could do to a person.

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” He said, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket as he wandered closer.

“Thanks, it’s a timeless look.” Dr. Hamilton shot back, flipping open a file on his desk. “I got your blood work done, it’s remarkable.”

“Yeah? How so?” Lex asked, running a finger along the duct tape seams.

“Besides a radically different DNA sequence, your white blood cells are through the roof.” Hamilton began, shaking his head. “Did you have any kinds of cancer screening before you were changed?”

“You think I have cancer?” He asked.

“If you did, I would doubt it could replicate or even live the same in a vampire body. It could even be frozen in whatever stage it was at. The levels it’s at is unheard of, I’d even wager with the supernatural implications it could have… well, it could have healed it.”

“Lucky me,” Lex deadpanned. “So, do you have everything you need?”

“No, I want to take a soft tissue sample from you and the boy to compare.” Hamilton looked over Lex for a moment before continuing, his tone turned more gentle and soft. “If you’re up to it.”

The sudden change in conversation made Lex bristle, rearing back from the kid gloves he felt coming on. His mouth let in a tight line before he took a breath in and out. It may have still been an act of habit, but each deep breath seemed to calm him slowly before looking back at the other man.

“Of course, I am, Doctor,” he said. “Whatever you need to get this done.”

“I’d offer some kind of tranquilizer, but even if a there was something strong enough for a normal vampire, I don’t know how it would react to your accelerated healing.” Hamilton said, walking around the desk.

“It’s fine.” Lex said flatly.

“I’ll see you in the examination room, then.”

Dr. Hamilton excused himself into the hall, slipping through the only other door down the short hall that comprised most of the practice Lex hadn’t been through. He stepped over to the door of the examination room and continued taking deep breaths as he stepped inside and made himself comfortable. The gloves and jacket were disposed of on a spare chair before Lex sat on the examination table.

It wasn’t long before Dr. Hamilton returned and set a tray of utensils to the side. Lex didn’t dare look, a lightheaded anxiety already making his head swim.

“If you don’t mind, please take of your shirt and lay on your stomach.” Hamilton said, readying his needle.

Automatically, Lex obeyed and laid on the examination table. The doctor rubbed disinfectant on a spot above his kidney and the needle pressed against his skin. There was no pain, there was rarely pain, but the familiar feeling of incision focused Lex to a point.

It felt like floating, the clear image forming in Lex’s mind of himself laying there, completely exposed. As he floated there, he noticed how different of a scene it was. How small he looked. The IV dripping into his veins a dark red, rich and wine colored. The person beside him was obscured by scrubs and protective gear. Behind the mask, he couldn’t see the way this doctor watched the weak child, his small head prematurely bald. The memory sent prickling anxiety through Lex before he came back to himself.

The image cleared and he realized he’d been staring wide eyed at the table below him. Blinking several times, his eyes came back into focus and the sensation of cotton being shoved through his hears took over. There was no pain, no discomfort from the needle. He looked around and realized Dr. Hamilton was gone.

Sitting up, Lex reached for his dress shirt and threw it over his shoulders, buttoning it quickly. He looked as presentable as always by the time the door opened again and Dr. Hamilton appeared. He looked over Lex, mouth set in a firm line as he looked over the young man.

“How do you feel?” He asked suddenly.

Lex paused, looking up in the doctors face. It was so relaxed compared to when they first met, something familiar in the way he watched him. It sent a chill down Lex’s back, his gaze quickly falling away as he fixed his cuffs.

“Fine.”

“Have you talked to anyone about those blackouts?” Hamilton asked, sitting on a wheeled stool and clasping his hands together.

“What blackouts?” Lex asked, meeting his brown eyes.

They watched each other, Lex’s tone daring Hamilton to clarify his point. That was usually enough to get people to stop talking, drop whatever Lex didn’t want to hear about. It was a perk from growing up with his father, the only skill he was passed down Lex truly appreciated. Yet the doctor took a deep breath and continued.

“We’re not doing something so invasive again, not until you get some grounding techniques that help.” He explained, watching Lex’s face closely. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, everyone has their phobias.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lex hopped off the examination table, taking his jacket from the empty chair.

“Wait-”

“Yes?” He snapped, turning as Hamilton held up a tube.

“There’s one more thing, just to make sure we have everything sorted,” he said.

Popping open the tube, he pulled out a sterile cotton swab. Lex just sighed before opening his mouth. The swab was quick, and as soon as the tube popped closed again Lex was at the door again.

“I’ll call you.”

When Dr. Hamilton looked back up, ready to respond, the room was completely empty.

His first step into the evening, Lex felt a great tug in his chest and it was like he couldn’t get enough air. He didn’t need air, that thought was so useless, yet he felt it all the same. He felt the rush as his eyes burned to release some kind of tear, he felt the clenching of his chest as everything played back in his mind, he felt the searing pain like a hot stone dropped down his throat as he ran to his car door and ripped it open. In the small, dark space, Lex felt like he could breath a little easier, but still curled in on himself as sobs shook him. The fear and anxiety of it all pushed and pulled at the edges of his mind, unable to name exactly what it was that pushed him over the edge so easily. Guilt melded in it all, mixing a bitter edge to the pain he already barely beat back.

After several gasping breaths, Lex sat with his head laying heavily against the head rest. His eyes fell on the rear view mirror and his finally recovered breath was knocked out again. The reflection revealed nothing but the smoothness of his pale skin, not a red mark or strained blood vessel across it’s surface. If it weren’t for the profound pain in his eyes, Lex wouldn’t have been able to tell the way he was falling apart at the seams.

Taking a deep breath, he turned on the car and pulled back onto the road. The sound of tire against asphalt was a familiar and comforting one, the sound growing louder as Lex pressed slowly against the gas pedal. It was a steady climb of the speedometer needle before the world around him had turned into a blur and was quickly behind him.

Everything turned to black blur, a smear of nothingness, before everything slipped away. It wasn’t quite a blackout but it might as well have been. On total autopilot, Lex raced through the night on the long road out of Smallville. The bright lights of Metropolis were steadily approaching, the maybe hour of driving condensed into seconds in his memory.

The next thing he knew, there was pulsing lights and thumping music surrounding him. The thudding ran through the floor and up through the soles of Lex’s Italian leather dress shoes, almost mimicking the beat of his still heart. Almost making him feel human.

There was a whisper, a gentle touch to his shoulder. A familiar face framed in blonde came into frame, her pink lips stretched in a smile. She curled a finger at Lex, walking back into the crowd before she bumped into a few people and turned to see where she was going.

Lex followed, wandering through the crowd. People seemed to slip from his periphery before he was in the bathroom, the woman pushed up against the wall and lips locked. Her tongue tasted like booze and mints, sloppy as she ran it across his lower lip. She nipped and pushed and pulled, the dark jacket half falling from Lex’s shoulder’s as he pulled from the kiss and buried his face in her neck. Kissing against her pulse point, he took in the full smell of perfume that covered the tangle of iron everything screamed to seek out.

Drink.

Drink.

_Drink._

A snarl curled from his chest before Lex fixed his teeth to the woman’s throat. She gasped, breathing in for one last scream before her hands started hitting against his solid chest. The blood flowed so quickly, too quickly, filling Lex’s mouth and running down his throat. He couldn’t taste any of it before the woman went suddenly limp and a chill ran over her skin.

Lucidity hit as hard and the sudden and overwhelming taste of pennies in Lex’s mouth. There was nothing appetizing in the taste, a shock of humanity keeping him from finding any pleasure in the act. It was bitter and metallic and the taste of bile hit the back of his tongue as Lex took in the limp shape in his arms. His knees buckled before Lex hit the floor, the woman slipping from his arms and onto the bathroom floor. Her heartbeat was faint in his ear, hands beginning to shake as he fell back and scuttled away.

Blood ran down his chin like sticky syrup, soaking into his shirt and turning the silk black. The taste of bile became overwhelming before Lex flipped himself over on the tile and let it all go. It was like a fountain of blood straight onto the black floor, splattering against his hands and sleeves, running down to soil everything it touched. Vile, stinking with age, it was overwhelming and made Lex’s stomach churn more.

Every nerve in his body was live and raw as his hands shook, trying to grasp the bathroom counter and pull himself up. The room came into sharp detail like the contrast being turned up on a photo. Lex watched the bloody hand print left on the counter as he stood, stumbling back into a stall and sinking back to the floor.

It was all a swirling mess and more than ever Lex wished the burn behind his eyes could coalesce into tears and give him some kind of release. Instead it just burned like pressure in his sinuses. After a several long moments focused on the single sensation, focusing on the one thing holding his head above the water, Lex’s shaky hand slipped into his coat pocket and grabbed the flip phone there and slowly bringing it up to his face.

He fumbled with the keys, trying to get to a number at the top of his contacts before finally placing it against his ear. The places the phone touched his skin were sticky with blood, like everything else, and a horrible part of Lex wondered what he’d have to do if anyone saw the state of things before it was sorted out.

Finally, the other end picked up.

“Help.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, new chapter quicker than expected. I didn't expect any of this to happen so soon, so enjoy!

Clark stood at the gate entrance to the high school, scanning the approaching classmates for two familiar faces. It wasn’t quite nervousness that kept him shifting from foot to foot, swaying like a great oak in a storm, but almost excitement. It was Monday morning, everyone was finally on the same page, and Pete was giving Chloe a ride.

The two came into view after a long ten minutes, Pete’s close cropped head and Chloe’s spiked out mess of a bob peeking between their classmates as they strolled in from the parking lot. When they noticed Clark, the two returned his shy but excited smile.

“Hey.” Clark said as his friend came to a stop in front of him.

“Hey,” Chloe said.

“So, where first?” Pete asked, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets.

“Oh, I left some homework in the Torch office last week.” Chloe said,her tight smile dodging the elephant in the room. “I need to grab that before I go check in with the office.”

With a sweeping gesture, Clark ushered Chloe forward before taking a place by her side and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Her head lulled against his bicep for a moment before she rolled her shoulders back and held her head up. The school looked so normal despite everything. When they approached the Torch office, Chloe brought out her key chain and grasped the handle. Her hands went very still for a moment before she turned the knob, keys barely out of her pocket.

“Chloe?” Pete asked, placing a hand on her back.

She blinked for a moment, taking a deep breath before she pushed the door open further and stepped inside. The boys watched Chloe from behind as she froze in the door way, the key chain falling from her gasp as she gasped. Her knees began to wobble before Clark forced his way in and wrapped a strong arm around her waist.

“Hey, Chlo, what’s wrong?” He asked, helping her to a chair before taking in the room.

He understood the shock at once when he finally took in the room around them. All was normal and at peace, all but the wide, blank wall across the room. The three of them all stared in awe for a long moment before soft sniffling pulled them away. Chloe’s face had fallen into her hands, back hunched and quivering as she gasped and blubbered out a sob.

“Oh, Chloe…” Pete said, kneeling beside her. “Chloe, it’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah, come on.” Clark said, turning away from the wall. “Come on, we can ask the paper advisor or the janitors, there’s gotta be someone who knows where everything went.”

“Yeah!” Pete cheered, trying to catch Chloe’s eyes with his own. “We’ll find out what happened.”

“No…” Chloe gasped, her hands falling away to reveal how red and splotchy her face had turned as she took a shuttering breath. “No, that’s just…. It’s all just ruined everything.”

“What do you mean?” Pete asked, leaning away.

“It’s since I started that goddamn project that my life has gone to shit!” She cried, a half hysterical laugh escaping. “Who ever took it did me a favor. I’m free.”

Pete and Clark looked to each other, both blank and confused. After a moment, Pete shook his head like he was trying to reset himself.

“Chloe, are you sure?” He asked, his brows drawn up together. “Clark and I, we can ask around for you. Keep you out of the loop and danger.”

Chloe wiped under her eyes with the loose sleeve of her tie dye blouse, sniffing before shaking her head.

“No, you two have done enough,” she said.

“We didn’t-” Clark started.

“It’s okay, I know you two wouldn’t do that to me.” She interrupted, smiling with as much composition as she could. “Go on, get to class. I just need a moment to myself.”

The boys nodded, Pete gently squeezing Chloe’s knee. She looked to him, her eyes still swimming with tears but there was also a strange tranquility that took her over. After a beat, he finally stood before walking towards the hall with Clark. They paused, a look passing between the two before turning back to look at Chloe.

“See you later?” Clark asked.

Chloe looked up, nodding as she put her bag on the desk.

“Yeah, of course. Go!” She waved them away before the office door was released and slowly clicked shut.

As soon as the door was shut, the tears began falling anew. Hot and sending rivulets of mascara down her rosy cheeks, Chloe took gasping breaths and pulled a green and purple binder from her bag and opening it to the back. From the pocket, she plucked out on in a stack of senior project proposal forms. When she’d taken the stack, she’d assumed she’d spend the fall semester helping out classmates and making a little cash on the side tutoring people at a loss for their projects. Instead, her own project had taken over the first month of school. All it gave her in return was some major anxiety and a possible two head injuries. Whatever it was, now that the project was gone it was a chance to start over.

She leaned over the page on the table and began filling out each box.

***

The school day went on in relative normality. Classes were long and boring, at lunch everyone went to the parking lot to eat and hang out, and at the end of the day everyone met up at the gate. Chloe was there first, leaning against the chain link with one leg kicked up and smiling as her boys approached. Pete leaned beside her as Clark let his attention brush over the hoard of students leaving the campus.

“So, Clark, ever decide on your senior project?” Chloe asked, head tilting curiously to the side.

Most evidence of the mornings events were gone from her face. It was like she’d reset, her face set in genuine curiosity as she looked between everyone. Clark cringed, head bowing to look at his sneakers.

“Uh, I’ve kind of been… distracted,” he admitted.

“Come on, you can’t get held back on a technicality.” Chloe said , pushing off the fence and sighing. “We can work on it this weekend, okay? We’ll find something good for you.”

“Oh, this weekend-” Pete started. “Um, the Homecoming dance is this weekend, remember?”

Chloe’s face fell for a moment before a horn blared in the parking lot right beside the gate. Looking out, a little red car was waiting, her father leaning out the window to wave.

“Oh, great,” she sighed. “Dad’s on a new campaign for father of the year, I didn’t realize he was going to go this hard for the title.”

She waved back before turning back to Clark and Pete.

“Well, uh, we’ll talk about it later, okay?” She said, smiling. “See ya!”

Pete and Clark waved, watching as she jogged away and hopped into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind herself. The little red car started up before pulling into the growing line of student drivers hurrying out into the world beyond.

“Hey, want a ride home?” Pete asked, pushing off the fence and wandering into the parking lot.

“Sure, thanks.” Clark said, following close behind.

“It’s no prob, man,” he said. “So, you asked Lana to the dance yet?”

“Not even sure I’m going to the dance, honestly.” Clark said, sighing as they walked through the field of cars and paused every now and then for someone pulling out. “I’m just worried about wearing myself out.”

“Come on, Clark, we only have so few high school dances left. How often after school do you think in the average life span you’ll have a pre-planned party you have no stakes in and don’t have to clean up after? We’re going.” Pete said, walking around to the drivers side door.

“Pete-”

“Come on, Clark!” Pete said over the car. “Do it for Chloe, we need something normal. Okay?”

Clark shrugged but didn’t bite back. There wasn’t much to say, Pete was right. They’d all started the year excited for their final go at just being kids, no one more than himself. But at this point in the year he didn’t feel anything but confusion and irritation. It felt like so much weighted on his shoulders now, so much he could barely even tell his parents about. He always did, but that didn’t change how they didn’t one hundred percent understand what it was he was going through. Not even Lex could, the person he could arguably relate to the most of everyone he knew. Or perhaps that just because he could relate to Clark in a way no one else could. Either way, it all pushed him down, his broad shoulders slumping under the pressure.

“Yeah, okay.”

***

Arriving home brought little comfort as Chloe made her way inside behind her dad. The house was bright with afternoon sun, bringing some life to the little place. It hadn’t changed much since they moved there in middle school, the curtains now faded to come degree in the kitchen and bathrooms. They were the same pink florals the previous owner had left up, something Chloe had despised so much as a kid. Like the rest of Smallville, they grew on her with age.

“How about some of your dad’s famous lasagna for dinner tonight?” Mr. Sullivan said as he put his coat on a hook in the hall and joined Chloe in the kitchen.

“Sounds great.” She said, looking away from the faded curtains and grabbing a blue stained glass from the cupboard.

“Want to help?” He asked, leaving his keys on a hook by the calendar.

“Sure.” Chloe’s answer was halfhearted, her attention focused on pulling a liter bottle of red out of the fridge and pouring herself a glass.

“Or we could go to the diner, get the corner booth like always.” Mr. Sullivan said, leaning against the counter.

“I’m good with whatever, dad.” She said, looking over the fridge door at him while she put the bottle away.

“Are you sure?”

“Dad, what’s up?” She asked.

“I’m just worried about you, pumpkin.” Mrs. Sullivan said, sighing. “You’ve been through a lot this year and… I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me.”

The sugar drink turned bitter on Chloe’s tongue as she swallowed, setting her glass down. She took a moment to take a deep breath before looking back at her dad. He was still smiling, looking like any other tired dad who just got off work and got the kids. The way she’d known him for years. A lump formed in her throat that Chloe tried to clear, looking away as she took another sip.

“I’m fine, really. Just…” She paused again, biting into her lower lip. “It’s just been a lot.”

“Do you want to talk to a professional, Chlo?” Mr. Sullivan asked.

“No, not again,” she snapped.

Slowly, Mr. Sullivan nodded and took a deep breath.

“Okay.” He said, closing the distance between them in two quick strides and wrapping an arm around his daughter.

He gave her a one armed hug before Chloe set aside her glass and turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing. They held each other for a moment, a familiar prickling in Chloe’s eyes as she felt her dad place a kiss on the top of her head.

“So, is Homecoming off limits, too?” He asked.

Chloe groaned, pushing away and grabbing her glass. She downed the rest of her sugary, red drink and set the glass in the sink before heading towards the hall.

“Honestly not thinking of going, I just want some peace and quiet.” She said, looking back at her dad and shrugging. “It’s not my scene, anyways.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

With a final farewell, Chloe escaped up to her bedroom and leaned against the door as she pushed it closed. She listened for a moment, waiting until she heard if her father was going to try pushing a little more or going to watch TV in the living room. After a long couple of minutes, she heard the television click on and stepped further into her room.

Everything was the usual level of mess, bed unkempt and her desk organized chaos of papers and notebooks. Ont he back of her closet door, Chloe approached a cork board hanging by a silver ribbon where her mirror used to hang. She scanned over the board, dread building up in her chest as she took in the models tacked up. Beautiful girls, most who looked like her, all clad in different versions of the same pink dress.

Spaghetti straps, pink, and shiny. Some were two pieces with corset tops, others bearing their midriffs with looping chains of beads decorating the hems, some overlayed with lace. All of them beautiful. Taking a shuttering breath, Chloe reached up and slowly pulled the pin out of one. She replaced the pin in the corner before going for the next. A pile formed in her hands as she lined up the pushpins along the top edge of her cork board before the job was finally done. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to her desk and dropped the pile in the empty trash bin.

Chloe fell on the edge of her bed, deep and shuttering breaths passing through her as she tried to calm down. It just kept coming, all at once as she tried to stay calm. The dread, confusion, anxiety, overwhelming and overpowering. She laid down and rolled onto her back, looking up at the white ceiling above her. That morning, she thought she’d cried everything she had, yet more still bubbled up from within her. Pressing a hand over her mouth, Chloe took a deep breath through her nose and let the faintest sob from her lips. It built until she was silently gasping and shuddering, fresh tears rolling down her face.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is day three of daily posting again? It was an accident, I started a new writing routine and it's made writing so much more fun...  
> Also I don't want to stop yet because we're basically at the end of this installment. I don't know what's going to happen with a sequel because of some work I'm doing now, so I don't know exactly what that means for posting more. One way or another, there will be more in the Cold Blood series, I have things planned for the future.

In the days between his accident and then, Lex composed himself as well as possible. His call to Darius had led to a quick and unencumbered recovery. With only a few more calls on the bodyguards part, the owner shut down the bathroom and kept the place guarded until backup arrived for Lex and the woman.

Sitting there, watching the limp woman slowly turn more and more pale as the minutes ticked by, Lex wondered how this would be covered up. Of course, they dumped her at the hospital and it had yet to reach the papers. A couple gossip blogs that had popped up over the years latched onto the story for a moment before the sites disappeared from the face of the internet.

A chill ran down Lex’s back as the memory pounded through his head like a bad hangover. Shaking his head, he stood form the desk and wandered over to his personal bar. He looked between bottles for a long minute before plucking a decanter from it’s place and pouring it’s dark contents in a glass. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled the iron stench.

The moment of appreciation was broken like a spell as the landline back on the desk began ringing. Lex couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he walked back, dropping in his seat and leaving the glass aside as he took the sleek receiver from it’s cradle.

“Lex speaking,” he said.

“I knew you were a disappointment but I didn’t know you were _sloppy_.” A rough voice said through the speaker.

The blood froze in Lex’s stomach as he heard the ancient voice, wizened with human age and toughened with the power vampirism had granted him. It was so familiar and unchanging from all those years back, from the first moment he’d demanded Lex come to him. That prickle of memory burned through the shock as Lex’s chest began rising and falling quickly.

“What, nothing to say for yourself?” He asked, chuckling darkly. “You could at least explain why I had to cover up your little midnight snack in the club? I expect with all the tabloid reporters you have on speed dial, you’d be able to keep the rumor mill inert on your own.”

“Who-” was all Lex could get out before he was cut off.

“Some peon with a pension for bribery. I expect you to keep company with people who won’t sully out reputation.”

“What reputation?” Lex finally spat, the phone beginning to shake beside his ear. “You know, I’d have appreciated some warning when you sent me to bumfuck nowhere, Kansas where the Luthor name is worth less than dirty. That would have helped me figure out what the _hell_ I was even supposed to expect coming in.”

The line was quiet for a moment before that goddamn chuckling started again. It was too bassy, too close to a cartoon villain laugh or something you’d expect from a Bond villain. Lex always wondered if it had been a show, something to put him in his place and keep him under control. Now, he wondered if it was just how he laughed.

“It’s called character growth. You’ll never know how to swim if you stay in the shallow end,” he said. “You’ll thank me when you’re older, Lex.”

“I’m not a child who need constant supervision.” Lex spat, his back ramrod straight as the plastic phone creaked and popped in his hand.

“Obviously, you are,” he spat back. “I’ve been cleaning up your messes since you stepped foot in that town. So long as you are the Luthor heir, and you will always be a Luthor, you will stay under my surveillance. Understood?”

Lex ground his teeth, morals cracking under the pressure as he took slow and deliberate breaths.

“So, tell me… who is that Kent boy?”

Everything froze again, even Lex’s lungs snapped out of their habit of inflating as the words sank in. No, they’d never been careful about the visits, but why should they have needed to be? He knew his public actions would always be monitored, but within his own home it was reasonable to think there was privacy.

Lex scanned around the library, watching closely for anything that looked out of place or suspicious.

“Don’t bother looking for bugs. Do you think I’m an amateur?”

“Of course, not.” Lex said under his breath. “The Kent boy’s no one. Just works for a local farm, getting deliveries to keep things looking normal.”

“Sure you are, Lex.”

The line was relatively quiet as Lex heard a sigh on the other end, the sound of leather giving in to a relaxing body.

“Well, I think you’ve gotten the message. Clean up your own messes, Lex,” he said. “I better not hear about you killing more prostitutes.”

There was a click and the line went dead.

“I didn’t kill her.” Lex said to the air.

Setting the phone down, Lex took steady, deep breaths. So habitual, he barely noticed before the tightness in his chest didn’t ease up and the glass was in his hand. And then the glass was shattering against the stained glass. And then blood was dripping everywhere.

And Lex fell to his knees, the tightness in his chest still growing as he took a deep shuttering breath and his arms wrapped around himself as tight as he could. He made himself as small as possible, the shuttering breaths making it hard to focus as he slowly counted from one to ten.

***

Since Monday morning, Smallville High had been it’s most normal it had ever felt. At least, that’s what Clark thought. There was no denying how awkward it felt hanging around the Torch offices like normal again, like he and Chloe hadn’t been falling in and out over the controversial report she was writing. It was almost like none of it happened besides the persistent denial the three friends had adopted since Chloe’s discovery of the missing wall of evidence. She refused to talk about it, refused to acknowledge it, simply returned to writing her weekly stories and putting in the hours on a new project.

Planning out his own at last, Clark wasn’t totally sure what they were doing anymore. It was hard to find whatever he’d be doing, he was already well into his work on the farm with his parents and there was little else Clark could see himself doing. It was the family farm, even if he went off to school he’d just be learning more on what to do when he inherited it.

Sitting across the table from Chloe, Clark tossed aside his pencil and looked over his proposal sheet. It was peppered with pencil marks that looked more like shotgun shrapnel. He couldn’t help but huff a sigh and lean back in his chair.

“What is it?” Chloe said, tapping a final keystroke and turning from her monitor.

“What’s what?” He asked.

“Whatever the hell is bothering you, you’re not being subtle about it,” she said.

Clark shrugged, arms crossing over his chest.

“Come on, any ideas?” She asked.

He shook his headand shrugged as he slumped in his seat. The two watched each other closely before Chloe simply shook her head.

“Come on, just… I don’t know, what are you even planning?”

“Chloe, I’m just gonna be working on the farm, I don’t need to prove my skills to a school board to do that,” Clark said.

“Yes, but… Well, let’s be real, you could probably do something mildly impressive to someone who doesn’t know how farms work and get an easy A.”

“Chloe, we live in Smallville. Fifty percent of our class lives on farms.” He explained, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the desk.

“Okay, maybe, perhaps we do.” She said, nodding as she turned back to the monitor and continued typing. “I mean, you could just do something easy, it’s not like they’re going to check back and make sure you’re doing what you said you’d do.”

“Like?” Clark asked, leaning closer with raised brows.

“I don’t know, be my assistant? Shadow me and do a couple articles here and there. Say you’ve got big dreams of escaping Smallville and working at the Daily Planet, no one will question it when you end up staying in town to take over the farm.”

Clark rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat and sighing. Looking him over, Chloe shrugged and returned to her work. The room returned to it’s silent state before Clark started tapping the eraser end of his pencil against the table. The normal fidget kept his mind from totally spiraling as he thought over the options, looking around the office.

It wasn’t actually a bad idea, Chloe was already known for dropping some overflow on him and Pete. It was the least they could do as she struggled to keep regular staff for longer than a semester. At this point, her infamy as Editor and Chief was a universal truth among the student body and new recruits had dried up for the year. But it was Chloe, she was basically Clark’s sister, there couldn’t be too much wrong with the two working together for the rest of the year.

Eventually, Clark’s eyes fell on the new copy of the Daily Planet Chloe had been reading earlier. It would be an easy project, all things considered, and leave the other farm kids scrambling for their own mildly impressive project in a town oversaturated by agriculture. Reaching over, he took the copy and unfolded it, eyes scanning over the headline.

METROPOLIS SOCIALITE HOSPITALIZED AFTER DRUG DEAL GONE WRONG

Clark’s brow furrowed as he read on. The longer he read, the worse it sounded. His heart sped up a bit, sending an uncomfortable anxiety through him.

“Hey, Chloe?” Clark asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know anymore about this?” He laid the paper out in front of her before Chloe could finish typing.

She looked over the page before shrugging.

“I don’t know, sounds pretty regular to me.” She said, turning back to the monitor. “Every now and then you hear about things like that. The Metropolis elite brought down by a little pill and a crazed junkie.”

The dismissal of the situation didn’t sit right with Clark, several of Chloe’s line ringing wrong. Of course, the blatant dismissal of it as just a “crazed junkie” left a bad taste in his mouth, but also how Chloe seemed to not notice the red flag bothering him.

“Yeah, sure… I’ll be right back.”

Before Chloe could get a word in, Clark was out the door with paper in hand. The halls were basically empty as he made his way purposefully towards the entrance. It was just around the corner from the entrance where a bank of payphones sat. Clark dropped the paper on the counter below them and searched his pockets for change. After a moment, he had a couple quarters and started feeding the phone coins before typing in his number. Bringing the receiver to his ear, Clark took deep breaths and scanned the immediate area.

It was a long minute of ringing before someone finally picked up and a soft, feminine voice came over the other end.

“Luthor residence,” she said. “Mr. Luthor isn’t in right now, would you like to leave a message?”

“Um, yeah.” Clark said, swallowing down his nerves as he looked over the paper. “Can you tell Lex I– uh, Clark– need to talk to him. It’s really important, okay?”

“Do you want to leave a number he can call back?” The other person asked.

“Um… No, no, he knows where to call me,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Have a good afternoon.”

And the line went dead.

Standing there, Clark looked at the receiver, dial tone playing out the speaker. After a second of confusion, Clark hung up the phone and stepped back. He scanned the hallways again before grabbing the paper and hurrying back to finish his free period with Chloe.

The phone call sat in the back of Clark’s head for the rest of the day as he tried to go about the rest of his day. It was what he was used to from Lex, he was asleep during the day. But there was something about the short way the other person had talked to Clark that seemed off. After missing a whole lecture to pondering what was really bothering him so much, the attack that reeked of vampire attack or the fact that Lex’s staff seemed to be having an off day, he tried to file it all away to be dealt with later.

It didn’t work.

Quite the opposite, there was little Clark could recall of the afternoon that wasn’t painted with thoughts that all lead back to Lex. He wanted to say it was just worry for his pseudo mentor, if that’s what they could call it. He wanted to say it was just because he saw Lex so much but he was still new to his life. But that wasn’t really it.

Clark couldn’t deny it as he walked in from some last minute chores before dinner and the phone rang. He was at the landline faster than Martha could turn to say hi, phone in hand.

“Lex?” He asked.

“Hey, I got your message. What’s up?” Lex said, and something was definitely off.

There was something in Lex’s voice that was too casual, his usual veneer of better not present.

“Hey, uh… yeah, I wanted to see if you knew about that story on the front page of the Planet.” He asked, leaning against the counter as Martha peeked at him from the stove.

“Yeah, I’m looking at it now. Tragedy,” he said. “What about it screamed out gotta tell Lex?”

Clark met his mother’s eyes for a moment before clearing his throat and turning around. He could hear as she turned off the burner and stepped closer.

“It doesn’t seem like something we should be worried about? It… Lex, it sounds like a vampire attack,” he said.

“And it probably was.” Lex sighed, sounding almost put out by the conversation. “Clark, you’re going to learn quickly that when you’re in the know about something, you’re going to notice it more. There’s a lot of things you never looked at twice on the news that was probably vampire related, that’s the world we live in.”

That took a moment to process before Clark let out a long and low breath.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t go developing a hero complex, you’re not totally indestructible. No one is,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, yeah… Thanks, Lex.” Clark said, turning back around to look at Martha’s worried face.

“Have a good night, Clark.”

And the line went dead.

“What was that about?” Martha asked, stepping close to Clark as the back door opened and shut again.

“Everything okay?” Jonathan asked.

“I… saw something in the news,” Clark began, “but Lex doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal. He says because I’m really in the know about vampires I’m starting to notice what probably is and isn’t vampire activity in the news. But this story from the Planet…”

“That one about the socialite?” Martha asked.

Clark nodded as he looked between his parents. He should have felt more at ease, now having three people to talk about what was bothering him. But there was something else wrong, something his gut kept warning him about. But whatever it was, he hadn’t put the pieces together yet.

“Thinking about it again, I can see what you mean, son.” Jonathan said, walking over to the kitchen sink and pushing his sleeves up. “But– and you will not get used to hearing this– I think Lex is right here. We never really talked about what you are, there was no reason for you to look at the world like that.”

“But now you see it all.” Martha said, sighing deeply before she place a hand on Clark’s arm. “Sweetheart… is there something bothering you?”

Clark chewed over his mother’s question for a moment. He wanted to tell her yes, very wrong, but he had no idea what it was. If he even said he suspected something about Lex and his behavior, Jonathan would have a field day saying he was right about him the whole time. There was something wrong, but it wasn’t something they needed to worry about.

So Clark shook his head.

“No, guess I’m just a little shaken up, ma,” he said.

“Well, help your father set the table. Dinner’s just about done.”

Martha gave his arm a squeeze and turned back to the rest of the kitchen. Clark took a stack of plates from his father before following to the dinning room. He’d worry about Lex later, until then he owed it to everyone to try and be a little normal.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, still on daily posting, and now I'm just... very emotional. We're on my last page of plot notes and it's very likely my next chapter will be the last of this story. I'll end up saying this a million times in a million ways but thank you to all the kind comments and kudos and I hope you all know how much I appreciate this support. I've learned a lot about myself as a writer over this story and what makes me happy when I write, as well as the actual motions of how I go about stories. This romp through vampires and teen drama has been a big part in me creating the foundation for my irl career and it's trajectory and I cannot thank you all enough for the support as I go through that and this story.

Clark rose with the sun that Saturday morning, eyes cracking open as he blinked away sleep and watched the first pink rays of light splash across his walls. Taking a deep breath, he flipped onto his back and stretched out before swinging his feet across the side. He slipped out from under the covers and moved to the little spot he always sat to watch the sun rise. It had been a bit harder to bring himself to enjoy the simple, quiet moments he got when the sun rose over the horizon lately, but now he was determined not to miss a second.

Pink turned to lavender to orange to bright yellow light spread across the clear, blue Kansas sky. With a heavy sigh, Clark rubbed his eyes as he watched the sun hang high in the morning sky before there was a knock at his door.

“Come in,” he called.

The door swung open and Martha stood there, dry cleaning bag in hand.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” She said, walking over the closet and catching the hanger on the top lip of the door.

As he stood from the window sill, Martha unzipped the front of the bag to reveal a simple black suit.

“Well, Pete called already. He’s going to be by at six for you,” she said.

“Thanks, ma.” Clark said, smiling as he walked over and wrapped a loose arm around his mom’s shoulder and sighed.

“Everything okay?” Martha asked, loosely holding his wrist and running a thumb over his pulse.

There was so much wrong, but also nothing. Clark couldn’t even articulate what it was weighting so heavy on him, everything should just be fine. Yet the simple moment of talking to his mom the morning before the Homecoming dance felt so inconsequential and unnecessary. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head.

“Nothing, just… I feel kind of silly,” he admitted.

“Well, at least it’s just silly after all the teen angst.” Martha said, smiling up at her son. “What’s bothering you?”

“Just after all this, after my friends have started moving away and worrying about… about random attacks and now one of my best friends is a full on vampire… I’m still nervous to go to Homecoming.” He said, head hanging low as it shook slowly from side to side. “How dumb is that?”

“It’s not dumb, Clark.” Martha pulled out from under his arm, stepping in front of Clark and taking his face between her hands. “You’re still a high schooler, the most you should be worrying about right now is college applications. Feel silly, worry about small things. We always knew you wouldn’t have a totally normal life, but that doesn’t mean the normal things don’t deserve consideration.”

“Thanks, ma.” Clark said under his breath, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Returning the smile, Martha pulled Clark’s head down to meet her lips, a faint pink stain left on his forehead. She brushed at the mark with her thumb, nose wrinkled slightly in concentration. It was such a small moment, just his mother trying to comfort him, but Clark tried to commit every detail to memory. She may be right, he may live an almost totally normal life, but that didn’t change that one day things wouldn’t be as normal as then. Things would change, things would get messy and scary, and he wanted nothing more than to remember these small moments when that time came.

Being nervous for a dance, Martha imparting her motherly advice, trying to figure out how to ask Lana to dance without totally flubbing it. This is what he wanted to hold closest to his heart if things had to change.

“Now get dressed and come get some breakfast, you still have chores to do. Your father needs help on the tractor.” Martha said, walking around Clark and into the hall.

“Be there in a minute,” he called after.

***

Hurrying through the morning, there was little time for Gabe Sullivan to stop his daughter and talk. She was like a tornado ripping through a corn field, running from her bedroom already fully dressed and cleaned up. She immediately grabbed a piece of toast from the wire stand on the kitchen table and stuffed it in her mouth, pausing only to pour herself a hot cup of black coffee.

“So, any plans today?” He asked, scrapping up egg from his plate.

“Studying at The Beanery.” She said shortly after chasing her toast with coffee. “Gonna be busy, don’t wait up.”

She sat only long enough to speak a fried egg on a fork and place it over her toast, turning with her spoils to run back upstairs. She bit into her egg and toast, only pausing as something new caught her eye.Just outside the kitchen in the small hallway, a large dress bag was hanging from the linen closet door. Chloe looked back at her dad, her brows screwed up and leaving one long crease across her forehead.

“Dad?” She asked, her voice so quiet before she cleared her throat. “Dad, what is that?”

“Why don’t you open it?” He asked.

Standing from his place at the breakfast table, Gabe approached her with a plate for her toast and took the mug of steaming coffee. With hands free, Chloe brushed the crumbs onto her plaid skirt before carefully pulling down the zipper. There was a hitch in her breath, a catch as the white material fell away and Chloe took in the dress.

It was a two piece, the bodice the same cut as the Vivienne Westwood corsets she’d been coveting. Instead of the beautiful paintings printed on the fabric, it was a gorgeous damask print of baby pink with glittering strands of silver tinsel and hot pink. The skirt was the same hot pink, a shiny satin that hung on a separate hanger behind the bodice.

“Oh my god… Dad, we can’t afford this–“

“We can now,” Gabe said. “I wanted to surprise you, but I got a promotion at LuthorCorp.”

Chloe looked from the dress to her dad, eyes glittering with tears as she smiled. It was a look Gabe was all to familiar with, the look when she was trying to be as happy as she could but had a million reasons not to be. She opened her mouth to protest before closing it again and shaking her head.

“I’m so happy for you, dad.” She said, throwing her arms around his waist and squeezing her dad tight.

“Thanks, angel.”

After a second, Chloe pulled away and grabbed her plate and mug.

“I guess I’ll stay in, then. I mean, until… you know.” She said, rolling her eyes before turning and hurrying up the stairs.

It was just moments later that she ran back empty handed and zipped the dress bag back up. In a flash, she was gone back to her room and the door slammed behind her.

***

The afternoon went by in a near flash as the town was up in arms preparing for one of the few community uproars. The Homecoming game the night before had been as average as ever, a near tie that would be spoken of until the next season as the game of the year. Kids were lined up out the door at the only salon in town, ready to get their hair set or even a blow out from one of the old stylists who just returned from a second stint of beauty school in Edge City.

The gas station had been a never ending cycle as last minute shoppers made their way out of town to pick up dresses and suits with all their high school savings. Day of the dance it was still the same story, trucks and little bugs all waiting in line to get their share of gas to just get home at the end of the night.

It was as those lines dwindled over the day, as kids hurried their ways home to finish getting ready, that the sun slowly carried it’s journey across the sky. It was just off it’s zenith and dipping towards the west as the last kid left the only salon.

Lana climbed into her car and looked in her rear view mirror. Her long, pin straight hair was shiny and healthy in it’s half updo. Little flower like curls were pinned in place as two loose braids held her hair out of her face and circled the curled bun. In the backseat, she could see her dress in it’s white bag hanging against one window. The figure still sat behind her, still shrouded in shadow as it watched her closely.

“It’s the day.”


	43. Chapter 43

Pete’s car drove up the parking lot as Clark came out the front door with his mother in tow. It was just barely time, the evening light casting the scene in shades of purple. Evening was close, but not yet set upon the town.

“Oh, Pete, you look so dashing!” Martha cooed as Pete stepped out of the car.

“Thanks, Mrs. K.” He said, smiling as Clark joined him.

The boys half hugged, clapping each other on the back.

“Where’s Chloe?” Martha asked.

Clark looked around them then, realizing he hadn’t seen anyone else in the car. Of the three of them, Pete and Chloe lived closest to each other, he would have expected her to already be with them.

“Oh, uh, she’s meeting us there.” Pete said, smiling wide.

“Well, Clark will just have to take the camera and get a photo of all three of you for me.” She said, giving the two boys a wave. “Okay, come on, say cheese.”

The boys rolled their eyes but obediently stepped closer to each other and smiled. There was a quick flash and cooing over the photo before Martha placed the camera in Clark’s hand.

“Don’t forget, I want a group photo.” She smiled, smoothing back her son’s hair before turning her beaming smile on Pete. “Oh, it feels like just yesterday you two were running around in your diapers-”

“Mom, please-”

“Fine. But don’t forget, this is just as exciting for us as it is for you.” With a final sigh, Martha stepped back from the boys and looked them over. “Okay, go!”

With their release, Clark hurried around to his side of the car and slipped into the passenger side. Pete returned to his place behind the wheel and laughed as he turned the engine back on.

“And this is why we weren’t meeting at my place,” he said. “Mom’s been emotional all day. You’re lucky you’re not the youngest of any or you’d get the whole ‘it’s my last time seeing this’ speech.”

The two chuckled together as the world went by, dead set on the dance. The parking lot was overflowing with student cars like any other school day with an uncanny veneer of beauty as students flooded the gym entrance. Everything had been played up with balloons and streamers as the field was covered in kids. Some underclassmen had said screw it to the image of grace they held and sat on the grass field while waiting to get in. There was more familiar faces towards the front of the crowd as seniors showed their tickets and were ushered in.

Pete and Clark made their way through classmates until they found the actual end of the line. It was minutes until they were there at the front, handing their tickets to a bored redhead in black satin. Clark’s eyes wandered over her for a minute, tracing her thin spaghetti straps before looking away quickly. It was as they were ushered in the two stopped dead in their tracks.

Just inside the gym, Lana was standing around the edges of the dance floor like most everyone who hadn’t broken the invisible barrier around it. She was talking to a boy Clark could vaguely recognize from school, her mouth painted a dark raisin color was set in a thin line that barely passed for a smile. Her half up hair left everything to be seen, but threatened to fall like a curtain if one pin was disturbed. Those deep brown eyes flickered over from the movement of new people before she registered recognition and turned away from the guy.

“Uh, talk to you later?” He said as Lana stepped away.

She didn’t reply as she stepped closer, figured hugged in maroon satin with thin shoulder straps and a strip of black lace under the bust giving the illusion of an empire waist. It went all the way down, a long sheath of fabric that made Lana look taller than she should have been. All the same, she was still Lana, barely hitting Clark at the chest while she looked up at him.

“Hey,” she said.

Clark gapped, searching for words as his mind just tried to memorize the way the party lights rolled over her skin, the way she seemed to light up when she saw him. The way his stomach twisted.

“Hey,” Pete finally said. “Oh, hey, who’s that?”

Pete slipped away quickly, turning only to shoot the shocked Clark a wink and disappear into the crowd. It was a bit of a dick move, but with Chloe’s push for them to go as a group before she dropped out, he wanted to find a pretty girl without a date.

Unfortunately, taking in the dance around him, it looked like most everyone had been paired off already. He sighed at the missed opportunity and took up residence by the drink table. From there, most of the dance was visible. It was as nice as he could imagine the Smallville High gym could be for a dance, but with that special made by teens wishing they were somewhere else polish.

Pete sighed, a sense of relief taking some of the weight off his shoulders. They’d started the year thinking it was all going to be so fantastic and easy, but it felt like getting kicked down every time he finallygot his feet under him. For once, it was like everything that had been going on was truly over. Every time he scanned the crowd, Pete hoped he would see Chloe pop up, but she’d earned the rest at this point.

He’d tried getting her to come, he’d even gone over after she refused to come to the phone. It was obviously bullshit when her dad said Chloe was sick, she’d been just fine after finally dropping the ‘89 kidnapping story. But Pete wasn’t going to push her out of that comfort zone she’d finally reestablished.

Turning back to the drinks table after taking a thorough look over the dance, Pete reached for a cup. It was as he started pouring some of the sparkling, pink punch he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He shot up quickly to see the door to the locker rooms, slowly swing shut. The weight settled back down on Pete’s shoulders before he shook the thoughts out of his head.

It was just some classmates going to hook up, it was none of his business.

Yet as he turned away and sipped on the punch, Pete couldn’t help but feel eyes burrowing into his back. He chewed over the annoying impulse to check it out. It was a stupid idea, he was just going to run into something he didn’t want to see and at best that would be some kids running on this syrupy sweet punch and stolen booze. Still the persistent poked at his worry for his friends. What if he could stop something from happening? What if he’d been there for Chloe?

That thought instantly sent a shot of adrenaline through his blood. A guilt he’d been pressing down for weeks bubbled back up and twisted every thought. If he’d just stayed a little later, Chloe may not have gone as off the rails as she had after the attack. If he’d just insisted on staying until she left too, maybe Chloe wouldn’t have been alone and cornered. Maybe she wouldn’t have had to rely on the good timing of a janitor.

Letting out a deep breath through his nose, Pete set his cup aside and walked around the table to the girls locker room door. After a quick assessment of who was looking, he pressed his ear against the door and listened for a minute. It was quiet, he was being paranoid. But one look wouldn’t hurt. One more sweep of who was paying attention to him and Pete slipped inside.

The lights were on, white brick and tile reflecting the florescence and making everything look sterile. It looked remarkably like the boy’s locker room, red lockers lining one end while bathroom stalls and sinks lined the other with a little hall into the showers, it was just missing the urinals. Pete looked around, taking a peek around every locker corner. It was clear, yet something in the pit of Pete’s stomach still felt wrong.

Finally, he looked to the showers. It felt too obvious to check the stalls, the most conspicuous hiding spot in the room. Taking quiet steps, Pete stepped down the short hall into the showers. Unlike the boys, there was curtains separating each shower, giving the place an eerie look. It was almost like some strange hospital floor or warehouse level in a video game. It all screamed jump scare in Pete’s mind.

“Hey, who’s there?” He called out, leaning to try and look around the curtains without stepping down the hall.

There was a long moment of silence before he took a deep breath and took careful steps back. It had just been paranoia, just an after effect of the school year thus far.

And then a curtain started pulling back.

***

Clark was speechless as he took in Lana. She’d always been beautiful, the most beautiful girl in Smallville, but there was something about her now that compelled Clark. It was something in her eyes, some kind of burn that had previously been smothered. He wanted to chalk it up to her finally kicking Whitney to the curb, but he’d been so wrapped up in his own life he didn’t know what else had accompanied that and her moving situation.

“So, where’s Chloe?” She asked, looking around the entrance as more students filed in.

“Uh, I actually don’t know.” Clark admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I thought Pete was picking her up too but I guess she’s coming on her own.”

“I hope she makes it, it would be a shame for her to miss everything.”

Clark nodded along but it felt like his throat was closing up. For once, he knew it wasn’t Lana’s scent that made him so antsy. He’d almost gorged himself on blood before coming, preparing for the worst. No, it wasn’t that, it was just her. Just Lana.

“Do you want to dance?” Lana asked as the song changed.

For a moment, the two watched each other, Clark in shocked silence and Lana watching expectantly. She raised her brows in question before holding out one gloved hand. Blinking a few times, Clark nodded and took her hand in his, guiding her onto the still empty dance floor.

It wasn’t exactly a slow song, but still Lana wrapped an arm around Clark’s broad shoulder while his arm slipped around her waist. They swayed and gently stepped to the music, an awkward aura settling over the gym.

“I think everyone is looking at us.” Clark said, warmth gathering in his face.

“You get used to it,” Lana said.

They smiled together, laughing a little hesitantly before a few more couples stepped out onto the dance floor. It was more awkward than Clark thought it would be as they swayed to the music, he wasn’t sure where to really look or what they were supposed to do. It was hard to just get swept away from the moment as he held Lana so close. It was still so surprising how easily he could be close to her now that his first thought wasn’t thirst. Maybe the fact that her warm scent was covered by a fruity body mist. It didn’t bother him so much to hold her like this when every thought of thirst was covered by layers of awkward high school dancing.

“You know, I’m surprised you didn’t ask me to the dance,” Lana finally said.

“What?” Clark’s ears perked up as he was snapped out of his thoughts. “But I-”

“Invited me with a group.” Lana finished, smiling up at him. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

The song ended and Lana’s arms fell away and before Clark could realize what was happening, he was being pulled back to the edge of the dance floor. Lana’s comments lingered in Clark’s mind as he tried to see what she meant before he saw what he was being dragged away to see.

The gym doors were opened again, the sky outside a dark lavender as the sun finally sunk below the horizon on the other side of the school, leaving the evening visage illuminated and framing the person stepping through. It took a moment for Clark to realize who it was, a vision in pink.

Chloe was beautiful, looking around the room before she made it to Lana and Clark. Her face brightened up, frosted lips pulling back in a wide smile. Her short hair had been tamed into pin curls on the back of her head, flecks of glitter sparkling in her pushed aside bangs. Getting closer, Clark could see it was sprinkled through out her hair, a small bit overlayed on her pink eyeshadow as well. A baby pink shall slipped from her arms as she ran forward, awkwardly grabbing at it before she was crushing Clark in a hug.

“You clean up well,” she said.

“Look who’s talking.” Clark said, pulling her back to get a better look. “Chloe, you’re beautiful.”

“Shut up.” Chloe punched his shoulder as they all laughed, her cheeks glowing as pink as her dress. “Where’s Pete?”

“Uh, I have no idea, actually,” Lana said.

The group looked around as the dim light of outside was cut off. The gym doors snapped shut securely as Mr. Kwon and a few other teachers ushered the students checking tickets inside and began mingling among the crowd.

Everyone had finally made it and the party was about to begin.

“I can go see if he’s in the bathroom,” Clark offered.

“No, no, let him pee in peace,” Chloe laughed. “Come on, let’s dance!”

Grabbing their hands, Chloe towed everyone behind her into the slowly flooding dance floor. The music pumped through the room as kids mingled and laughed. Everything slipped away for a while, the sheer joy of the night taking over. For the first time in a while, Clark felt okay being a kid. He was dancing with his best friend and the girl of his dreams. He could only focus on the good, on how Pete probably ditched them for a pretty girl without a date. And really, Clark couldn’t blame him.

Lana laughed along with him and Chloe, migrating from the dance floor to the bleachers as the took a breather, and back again several times. It wasn’t long before finally, Clark stopped to take everything in. He tried to find Pete in the crowd, remembering how he promised to get a group photo for his mom. The camera weighted heavy in his pocket as he realized Pete wasn’t even in the gym. After several sweeps, he couldn’t hear that familiar timber amongst the babbling.

“Hey, have either of you seen Pete at all?” Clark asked, knowing how silly of a question it was.

“Not since you got here,” Lana said.

Chloe just shook her head, doing her own scan.

“Guys?” She asked, pointing out the way the chaperons hurrying around the gym doors.

A good hour had passed as they just hung out, the windows at the back of the gym were completely dark save for the ever present lights of the parking lot. Clark’s eyes scanned to the windows at the front of the gym, his chest growing tight. They were dark, nothing but the inky night sky and something that flickered in the reflection.

Before either of the girls could ask, Clark was up and jogging across the gym. Everything in him screamed to run at top speed, but there was no way he could get away with it in the filled space. Instead, he willed himself to stay calm as he finally touched the push bar.

“Hey, don’t-” Mr. Kwon started, hands outreached to stop him as the doors pushed open and Clark saw everything.

There was already sirens down the road, that caught the attention of those who hadn’t noticed the strange behaviors already. A murmur spread over the crowd before everyone was following Clark out. He couldn’t believe what he saw, taking deep but ragged breaths as he blinked slowly.

It wasn’t until the first scream that everything clicked into place.

Tall blazes of flame surrounded the field, licking up towards the sky as it crawled deeper towards the thing planted in the grass. There was a horrible stink of vinegar in the air that burned Clark’s nose as he ran closer, trying to see what it was beyond the wall of flames. He could faintly hear Chloe calling out, feel her hands on him as she grabbed him and pulled, but that’s when it clicked.

The thing just beyond the wall of fire was a scarecrow post driven into the field and there was a man strapped up to it. Arms locked behind the cross beam, his hands hung limp unlike his head that had been propped up to show the gash across his throat. Blood covered the front of the familiar cheap suit, so dark it was almost black on the thin, white dress shirt.

In one breath, Clark could see the world turning and flipping on it’s head. Everything spun out, stretching into a long spiral around Roger Nixon’s waxy corpse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's that promised million thanks. It's so hard to put into words what I really feel finishing this fic. Firstly, it's basically my first finished fic ever so there's an achievement. Secondly, there will be a sequel, there will actually be several, but getting to them is the issue. I'm a writer by trade and have spent this fic getting myself back into a place where I wanted to write and was excited to write after what 2020 ended up being and am on the edge of taking a different vampire story to agents. That takes priority, but I want so badly to continue this story and the world unfolding.  
> I also can't finish this without giving a huge thanks to fuwuneral, the friend who got me back into Smallville in the first place and was my biggest support behind this story. They listened and brainstormed with me over the last five months since this idea started plaguing me and even gave this story it's title. Please give his work a read, especially if my multi-fic Clex slow burn is too long for you, they write such amazing Clex fics and Smallville AU's.  
> Until next time!


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